


A Princess for Christmas

by EndoratheWitch



Series: Holiday Drabble requests [21]
Category: A Christmas Prince (2017), Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Arguing, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Human AU, Princess - Freeform, Romance, Royalty, Smoking, Winter Romance, Writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 46,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21572794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: Bog gets a chance to shadow a princess for his new book, as well as helping the royal family with a PR problem.
Relationships: Bog King/Marianne (Strange Magic), Dawn/Sunny (Strange Magic)
Series: Holiday Drabble requests [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/358763
Comments: 88
Kudos: 90





	1. Meeting the Princess

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, got influenced by the Netflix movie A Christmas Prince for my Christmas story this year.

Bog licked his lips, holding his cigarette out between his fingers, the smoke momentarily forgotten as he read over what he had just typed on his typewriter. He was working on a pitch for a new novel, or at least trying to while he waited for the phone call he was expecting from his stepbrother Sunny Elfman. 

He had decided to do some typing while he waited, sitting at his desk by the window of his tiny apartment. The room was a small studio apartment, but the view of the city was fantastic and it was that view that cost him the big bucks. Bog could see the city lights from here and with it being two weeks before Christmas, the entire city was decorated in cheerful holiday lights and Christmas trees. Santa Claus and Snowmen were everywhere, and with the gently falling snow, the city looked like a winter holiday wonderland. The view, however, wasn’t helping with the writing. Bog knew why. He had his mind on the real project, the story he really wanted to write, a story that was going to require some research which was why he was impatiently waiting for the phone call. Bog turned the platen on the old typewriter (he used a computer too, but when he was brainstorming he enjoyed using the old typewriter that had belonged to his father.) He took a drag on his 

cigarette, flicking some of the ashes into the ashtray at the corner of the desk without looking as he read over the paragraph he had written. He was tired, his hair was a mess, and he was wearing just his brown and black slacks, a t-shirt, suspenders, and socks. The apartment sat dark with only the lamp on his table and the cherry end of his cigarette providing any light (though the Christmas lights outside were providing their own illumination inside his room.) He needed to shave; he hadn’t shaven in a few weeks (or was it a couple of months, he couldn’t recall) and was well on his way to growing a decent beard, though it wasn’t intentional. He just couldn’t be bothered most of the time to take much pride in his appearance. He was, after all, an ugly man who did not have luck with women; so why put in the effort he thought. He knew it sounded a bit like the kid who argued with his mother about not making his bed if he was only going to mess it up again (an argument he had with his mother a great deal while growing up), but he didn’t really care about his looks anymore. 

Bog frowned at his writing. The idea that bounced around in his head was slowly coming together for a story when his cellphone rang. 

Bog snatched the phone up and hit the talk button without looking to see the caller. 

“Well?” he asked at the same time he mashed out his cigarette in the ashtray. 

On the other end, the more cultured voice of his stepbrother Sunny responded with a laugh. “Geez, not even a hello?” 

Bog chuckled. “Sorry Sunny--hello. Well?” 

Sunny laughed again. “King Dagda agreed. The royal family needs the positive PR after the mess and damage that Lord Roland Knight has been doing with his interviews and constant television appearances since Princess Marianne left him at the altar. The man is a menace, but he has the press on his side at this moment seeing him as the jilted Prince Charming. Anyway, you get two weeks to follow Princess Marianne around like a shadow with permission to write the piece on the princess and to use whatever you need for your novel.” 

Bog stood up with a whoop. “YES!!” 

Sunny chuckled on the other end. “There is a ticket waiting for you at the airport. Your flight leaves at 4 a.m.” 

Bog grinned walking through his dark apartment toward his bed where his suitcase laid open but packed and ready to go. “I’m already packed.” 

Sunny chuckled. “I’m looking forward to seeing you. Someone will be there to meet you at the airport to drive you to the castle.” 

Bog tilted his head a fraction, frowning as he asked. “They really live in a castle?” 

Sunny laughed. “They do. See you in about six hours.” 

“See ya soon,” Bog said before he dropped his phone on the bed and did a fist pump. “YES!! The Kingdom of Lidvessa, here I come!!” 

* 

Princess Marianne sat at the dining room table with her arms crossed angrily over her chest, slumped down in her seat looking like she did when she was sixteen and her father had informed her that princesses did not take speed boats across the royal lake to “race.” Despite the frown creasing her brow, Princess Dawn, with her long blonde hair pulled up in a fashionable bun and wearing an emerald green dress with a modest neckline and long sleeves, thought her sister still looked quite pretty with her newly shortened brown hair. Her older sister wore a simple purple sweater and jeans even though their father was fussing at her for not wearing a dress, or at least a suit. Dawn figured it was more the fact that Marianne hadn’t dressed for dinner at all. Dawn was with her sister on the clothing issue; she didn’t see why they had to dress for dinner when it was just the three of them, but Daddy said that they must always be seen as the royal family no matter what they were doing. 

Dawn contemplated her sister while she took a sip of her soup. Marianne had been more contrary in that last month than she had ever been growing up. The break up of her engagement and wedding had been a devastating blow to Marianne’s self-esteem, but then when Lord Roland began his smear campaign against her, hitting every television station around the world, every tabloid, telling his version of events, Marianne grew even more upset. But she had refused to make any statement to the public about what had really happened, about how, on the day of her wedding 

Marianne had found Roland in the closet with one of the castle maids, half undressed… 

Marianne had fled, her heartbroken. 

Since then Marianne had become more...Dawn searched for a proper word...angry definitely, but Marianne had also become harder she thought The elder princess had built a shield around herself to protect herself from the damage that Roland was doing to the royal family. But now Marianne was angry because their Daddy had just informed the short-haired princess that she was going to be followed around by an author. 

Dagda sipped his wine. Their father always looked regal with his snow-white hair, closely trimmed beard and wearing a black suit, the only color of which was the dark purple tie he wore. “Surely you’ve heard of Bog King since you like to read so much fiction.” He lifted a quizzical brow at his pouting older daughter. Marianne did, in fact, know the name Bog King; she had read all of his books, and she was a little bit of a fan, but her father didn't need to know that and that little bit of information did not mean she wanted the famous writer following her around for two weeks. Marianne didn’t say anything while her father continued. “He needs to do research for a new novel in which the main character will be the princess of a small country. He will follow you around to learn what a real, modern princess does, and in exchange, he will write about the real you, about what happened with Lord Roland and hopefully mend much of the damage that scoundrel has inflicted upon the royal family’s image.” 

Marianne glared at her food, which was getting cold. “Daddy, it doesn’t matter who he is! I said it before: I don’t want to talk about what happened.” 

Dagda sighed. “Marianne, I understand why you do not wish to revisit what happened with Roland and the wedding, but dear, Roland has been making you look like a beast, a villain. This is your chance to set the record straight and Bog King is a well-known author. His words will be believed. With one stroke of his pen, he can fix all the damage done by Roland.” 

Dawn smiled across the table at her sister. “Maybe it will be fun having someone with you. Did you know that Sunny Elfman is his stepbrother?” 

Marianne muttered. “I don’t care.” 

Dawn frowned with a glance at her father who sighed and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Marianne, this is a royal order: you will take Bog King everywhere with you, you will answer his questions honestly, and you will cooperate. Is that clear? Our conduct during trying times shows who and what we are.” 

Marianne narrowed her eyes, clearly angry. Her words came out in a hiss. “Fine, but I don’t have to be nice to him.” 

Dagda smiled. “No, you do not, but you do have to be polite.” 

Marianne sighed dramatically, causing her sister to giggle. Marianne smirked at her sister and picked up her spoon for her soup. “So, what does this Bog King look like. And yes, I’ve read some of his novels.” (She was a bigger fan of his work than she was going to let her father know.) “He never has dustjacket pictures like most artists.” 

Dagda shrugged. “I assumed he looked like Mr. Elfman. I have no idea. I only know that his father was Scottish, his mother American. Either way, he’ll be here in the morning. I’ve arranged for Brutus to go and pick him up from the airport. He’ll be joining you...” He looked at his eldest daughter. “...when you go shopping tomorrow morning.” 

Marianne made a very undignified face. Her plan was to go on her annual shopping trip tomorrow for Christmas gifts for her family and friends. She had made a tradition of shopping locally, a tradition started by her mother when she became queen. She also planned on buying gifts for the Lidvessa orphanage/school of St. Nicholas. She enjoyed going to the orphanage and giving out gifts to the children (as well as her annual hefty donation to keep the children clothed, fed and educated.) But she didn’t say anything, instead took a large swallow of wine. 

Dawn giggled. “Daddy. Sunny, and Bog are stepbrothers, not actual brothers. They probably don’t look a thing alike.” 

Dagda shrugged again. “I suppose.” 

“So this Bog King will be attending the Christmas ball?” Marianne asked glancing at Dawn who giggled knowing that Marianne was trying to make her father uncomfortable. The annual royal Christmas ball was a large event with all the local royalty and nobility in attendance, as well as celebrities and other people of note. An author, no matter how famous, was not someone their father would have willingly invited. 

Dagda frowned as if he had just thought about this, then sighed. “Well, I suppose he will.” 

Marianne looked surprised. “Really?” 

“Yes, really.” Dagda motioned for the servant standing in the corner to bring in the second course. “Now...let’s talk about something else, such as what would you girls like for Christmas?” 

Marianne took a bite of her soup with annoyance. Talking about Roland and how he had hurt her was not something she wanted to do. She had hoped to just ignore the situation, but she had to admit to herself that her father was correct. Roland had used the press to make her look bad and to make the family look bad. She had prayed this would just blow over, that she could put Roland and her mistake behind her, but Roland’s face was always popping up in interviews, on television. The poor little handsome lord left at the altar by a horrible and selfish princess… 

Maybe this was a good idea after all.

* 

When Bog arrived in Lidvessa, he was tired and craving a cigarette. The Lidvessa airport was small, more like the size of an airport for a small town instead of the capital city of a kingdom. He grabbed his luggage, which consisted of one suitcase and a duffle bag, and hurried outside where he could enjoy a cigarette. He moved away from the main doors over to the side and dropped his bags, immediately pulling out his package of cigarettes from the pocket of the long black coat he wore, along with his lighter, a small gold lighter than had belonged to his father. He put the cigarette between his lips and flicked the wheel on the lighter. He snapped the lid over the flame once the cigarette was lit and inhaled on the cigarette with a pleased sigh. He had been promising his mother to give up smoking, but it was a habit he had a hard time breaking. He supposed it was mostly because he didn’t want to, he didn’t really have a reason to he supposed. Maybe he had some sort of death wish, but either way, he still hadn’t given up the habit. 

As he leaned against the wall and took another drag, he saw a sleek black sedan pull up to the curb. A large man--an impressively large man--wearing a tailored black and white monkey suit stepped out. The man was built like a luchador with broad shoulders, thick arms with dark brown skin, and a trimmed haze of black hair. The large man held a small sign Bog noticed as he stopped round the car to step up onto the curb and held the sign up, a sign that read: “BOG KING.” 

Bog frowned as he blew out a long line of smoke from between his lips and out his nostrils. He knew they were sending a car for him, didn’t know it came with a mountain. Bog finished his cigarette, dropping the filterless butt and put it out with his toe before he grabbed his bags and walked over to the giant man. “I’m Bog King.” 

The big man narrowed his eyes. “ID please.” 

Bog sighed, set his luggage down, and pulled out his wallet. He flipped it open to show his driver’s license. The big man leaned close, looking at the picture which showed a clean-shaven version of the author, then back at Bog. 

He looked a couple more times before he said. “All right Mr. King, welcome to Lidvessa.” The big man turned and opened the door to the back seat. “My name is Brutus and I’ll be driving you to the castle.” 

Bog smiled. “Nice to meet you Brutus.” Brutus picked up Bog’s luggage and gave Bog a smile. “Nice to meet you sir. Why don’t you get in and we’ll get going.” 

Bog nodded. “Thank you.” 

“No problem sir,” Brutus said, taking Bog’s luggage around to the back as Bog leaned over the car and said. 

“Just call me Bog, please.” 

* 

The drive to the castle was beautiful, Bog decided. He was impressed with Lidvessa and her capital city of Lafast. The city that surrounded the castle (surrounded wasn’t accurate, the castle, Bog had looked up online, was eight miles or more outside the city in the countryside) was charming looking, more like an old-world Christmas village than a city. Bog noticed that the city was quite clean; he saw no graffiti or trash that one would find in a regular city. The streets were bustling with shoppers, yet the traffic wasn't back to back like in a regular city. 

The city was decorated for the holidays with Christmas lights, trees, the works. The city was a nice mix of modern and old, but every building boasted Christmas lights, and with the snow falling, the entire place looked just like a postcard. 

Bog leaned toward the window, watching the beautiful countryside come into view when Brutus drove out of the city, but when they crested a small hill and the castle came into view, Bog sucked in a startled breath. 

The castle looked to have stepped right out of a fairytale. It was larger than he expected, with tall pointed spires, all of which flew the national flag and sat on a large piece of land surrounded by rolling hills, thick forests, and gardens, right now all covered in snow. 

Brutus drove up to the large, ancient-looking wrought iron gate where two guards dressed in black and red held stolid looking staves. The stern-faced guards pushed the gate open for them. 

Brutus drove slowly up the road while Bog practically pressed his face against the glass of the car, gazing in wonder at the castle. 

Brutus pulled up in front of the castle’s large double wooden doors and turned the car off. “We’re here sir. Welcome to Castle Summerfield.” 

Brutus got out and hurried around to open the door for Bog who stepped out with his mouth open. The place was just amazing. The moment he stepped out of the vehicle, the front doors opened and Bog saw his stepbrother hurry out. 

“BOG!!” Sunny, dressed in a grey suit and tie, his long hair pulled back in a tight braid that ran down his back, rushed to his brother and threw his arms around him. Bog chucked and threw his arms around his brother. Where Bog was a tall, slender man well over six feet and pale with black hair, sharp angular features, and brilliant blue eyes, Sunny was short, maybe five feet three with honey-colored skin, freckles, light brown hair, and light butterscotch colored eyes. They couldn’t look more different, but while they were not brothers by blood, they had grown up together and loved each other just like two blood brothers would. 

Sunny stepped back, looking Bog over with a frown. Bog wore jeans and a black fisherman’s sweater, and boots, his thick black hairbrush back, but the beard was beginning to take on cult leader status. “What’s with the beard?” Sunny pointed at the beard like he was afraid it might jump off Bog’s face and attack him. 

Bog chuckled, glancing over as Brutus walked by, carrying his luggage into the castle. “Just lazy, besides it helps to hide this ugly mug of mine.” 

Sunny frowned at Bog and gave him a light punch in the shoulder. “Stop it. So, you want to freshen up first or do you want the tour first?” 

Bog grinned. “I can be a dirty American a few more minutes. Tour please.” 

* 

Marianne frowned, looking out her bedroom window watching for when the author arrived. She saw Brutus pull up and watched when the man who was to be her shadow for the next two weeks unfolded himself out of the car. Her eyebrows went up when she saw how tall he was--taller even than Brutus--like a miniature giant, except he lacked the width of Brutus. He as a very slender man, but with broad shoulders. She pressed her cheeks against the glass trying to get a good look at his face when the voice of her little sister said. “You could just go down there and introduce yourself you know, instead of spying. You are a princess, you know.” 

Marianne yelped, jumping a foot in the air and spinning around to exclaim to her sister. “DAWN!!” 

Dawn looked pretty in a boatneck yellow dress with three-quarter sleeves and simple white heels. Her long, golden hair hung in a braid over her shoulder, making Dawn look sweet and youthful, all of which she was Marianne thought as her sister chuckled. “Your door was cracked open--I took that as an invitation to enter. So want to go meet him?” 

Marianne frowned rubbing her hands down her legs. “I guess…” Dawn laughed. “Oh stop,” she said with a shake of her head. “You look nice by the way, I like that outfit.” 

Marianne did a spin. She was wearing a pair of black fitted slacks and a white turtleneck sweater with full sleeves, it wasn't a dress like her father preferred, but it wasn't jeans. “You like it?” 

Dawn nodded. “Yes, it really looks good with the short hair.” 

Marianne ran her fingers through her hair. “I know Daddy hates the hair the most.” 

Dawn shrugged. “Well, maybe if you had told him you wanted to cut it instead of chopping it off yourself in the bathroom…” 

Marianne sighed. “I know...anyway...fine. Let’s go meet my shadow.” 

* 

Bog’s eyes were wide as his brother led him around the castle, hitting the important rooms. The rooms were beautiful, filled with priceless pieces of art, paintings of the royal family from centuries back all the way to the present. (Bog found himself staring at one of the paintings of a beautiful young woman with long, thick brown hair and large brown eyes. She was wearing a beautiful purple dress that made her brown eyes look as if there were flakes of amethyst in them. It wasn’t just beautiful, but there was clear intelligence in her gaze. She looked like a woman who was brave, adventurous, and an almost perfect vision of the heroine he wanted to write for his novel.) Every single room was also decorated for Christmas, each room holding a Christmas tree decorated to compliment the colors of the room. It was really quite beautiful he thought. 

“I would take you to see every part of the castle, but the private rooms of the royal family are off-limits and there are so many other rooms, we would be at this for a few days,” Sunny said with a shrug. 

“This place is massive,” Bog murmured. “Looks like it’s right out of a fairy story.” 

“Is that a compliment or a criticism?” a lovely voice asked. 

Both men turned around to see two women, both equally lovely, but it was the one with the short brown hair that drew Bog’s gaze. He saw it was the woman from the painting, except her hair was now short, a little wild and, if he were to voice his own opinion, more suited to the fiery gaze that looked back at him. 

Sunny smiled, stepped forward and bowed, which perfectly hid his blush at seeing Princess Dawn, the woman he was deeply and hopelessly in love with. “Princess Marianne, Princess Dawn--may I introduce Bog King.” 

Bog started to put his hand out, then stopped himself and bowed instead. “Hello.” 

Dawn giggled. “It’s so nice to meet you Bog.” Dawn turned her attention to Sunny, her cheeks flushing a bit. She had been smitten with the family’s head of Public Relations for a while now. She tried hard not to show it, but she found that difficult. “Ah...Sunny, could I speak to you in private? I have some matters about the Christmas Ball I would like to discuss..” 

“Of course princess. Bog, will you be all right?” Sunny asked, but Marianne sighed. 

“I can show him to his room if you haven’t done it already, then you…” She directed her gaze at Bog. “.. can freshen up and go out with me since I have some shopping to do.” 

Bog nodded. “Ah, sure. That would be great.” 

Dawn smiled and bowed her head. “See you later Marianne, Bog.” 

Dawn and Sunny left Bog alone with the eldest princess. 

Bog shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his feet a little. “Ah, nice place you have here.” 

Marianne narrowed her eyes at him. The bastard was attractive--well, except for the scraggly beard--but he was taller than she expected, even after seeing him getting out of the car. His features were sharp and he had incredible blue eyes, but she noticed he slouched like he was trying to disappear. 

“Follow me, I’ll show you to your room.” Marianne turned and walked off, forcing Bog to jog to keep up. 

* 

“I want you to know that this isn’t my idea,” Marianne said as Bog jogged up beside her. “My father thought it would be a good idea since Lord Roland has done his best to make me and the royal family look bad.” 

Bog nodded. “I understand, though I’m surprised you didn’t defend yourself or set the record straight.” 

Marianne frowned as she walked. “I didn't want to talk about what happened.” 

Bog pressed his lips together. “What did happen?” 

Marianne stopped in her tracks in a small hallway with windows that looked out onto the snow-covered garden, Bog walked two steps past her before he stopped and turned around, lifting a brow at her in question. 

Marianne rubbed her hand over her lips, looking up at him. “I was already dressed--in my wedding dress, in fact.” She smiled sadly. “I was so happy. I had made this silly boutonniere for him using the purple roses that are our state flower…” She swallowed and shook her head. “Anyway, I couldn’t wait to give it to him. I wanted him to wear it for the ceremony...I heard noises from a closet...and found him and one of our maids…” She looked down at her shoes. “...in the middle of relations.” 

Bog frowned and chewed his bottom lip. He knew exactly how she felt. He had thought he was in love once until the woman he had given his heart to gave herself to his agent at the time...then he learned they were both bleeding his accounts...he hadn't wanted anyone to know either. It was devastating and humiliating. 

Marianne looked up. “I wanted everything to just go away after I fled the wedding...I didn’t want to talk about it, I didn’t want anyone to see me because I didn’t want to talk about what a fool I was. Roland wanted me for the crown. I had been blinded because he was the perfect Prince Charming, handsome…” She gave a derisive laugh. “And the entire scandal just shows how shallow I was being too, thinking that since he was good looking, he was also noble and good…” She sighed wrapping her arms around herself. “I was stupid.” 

Bog spoke softly. “You’re not stupid Princess, you just wanted the fairytale and why shouldn’t you? You’re a damn princess.” Marianne looked at him sharply. 

Bog blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, but no one can blame you. This Roland used that against you, but it doesn’t make you stupid. I mean..I understand. I found out my girlfriend was sleeping with my agent. She said it was because I was too ugly for her to want to be with me, she was only interested in the money.” 

Marianne blinked in surprise. “She actually said that?” 

Bog chuckled. “Well not in those words. Her exact words were, “You’re an ugly motherfucker Bog and the only way a woman is going to sleep with you is if you pay her.”” Bog grinned. “Sorry about the cursing.” 

Marianne chuckled softly. “It’s fine. She said that,” the princess said with a shake of her head, her wild brown hair bouncing. “What a bitch.” 

Bog barked out a laugh, which made Marianne giggle. “Wow princess, didn’t know royalty knew words like that.” 

Marianne wrinkled her nose at him. “You’ll find, Mr. King, that I am full of surprises.” 

She began to move again, but her steps were lighter now. “Let’s see your room.” 

Bog followed her, grinning. 

* 

Bog’s room was on the third floor. Marianne held the door open for him and Bog stepped through only to stop short in surprise. “This is my room?” The room was actually two rooms. One held the large king size canopy bed, the canopy of which was a rich burgundy color with a thick duvet and large pillows that looked fluffy, and a marble framed fireplace. The next room had a couch, chairs, coffee table, desk, a large television mounted on the wall, and its own fireplace. The walls were papered with gold textured wallpaper, the windows hung with gold and burgundy curtains, and the floor covered with a thick carpet of soft beige. The furniture all looked to be made of heavy, carved polished wood with the rich look of handmade furniture, not store-bought. Several paintings adorned the walls, some depicting the castle gardens, another of a mountain view and lake, and yet another that was an image of a hunting lodge, all beautifully rendered. It didn’t take an expert to see that these paintings were originals. 

Marianne smiled softly. “Sorry, it’s so small…” 

Bog turned to look at her, his eyes comically wide she thought as he murmured. “Ah, this is bigger than my apartment.” 

Marianne blushed. “Oh...ah…” 

Bog smiled. “Hey, no. It’s fine, I mean…” 

She shrugged. “You’re used to a different way of life than I am.” 

Marianne frowned. “I thought you were a very successful writer.” 

(She didn’t want to tell him that she had read all of his books. She didn’t want to come off as a fangirl.) 

Bog smiled at her and Marianne noticed his slightly crooked teeth. “I am, but writers don’t make as much money as everyone seems to think. We are not all Stephen King and no one has made a movie from any of my novels yet.” 

Marianne nodded and leaned against the doorframe. “So what research are you doing for which you need to follow me around...I mean, my daddy said you were doing this for a book as well as writing a human relations story on me to hopefully help the crown.” 

Bog stood in the middle of the room turning around in a circle to try to see everything. “Well, I’m writing a story about a princess who gives up her crown to fight a great evil...I wanted it to be an urban fantasy, so I needed to know how a real modern princess lives.” 

Marianne smiled. “A hero who’s a princess, eh?” 

Bog glanced over at her. “Yeah--something wrong with that?” 

Marianne shook her head. “Nope, nothing at all. Well, I’ll leave you for a bit. Meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes.” 

With that Marianne turned and left. Bog watched her go with a lopsided grin. 

* 

When Bog came down the stairs he found Marianne waiting for him. She had changed (acquiesced to her father’s desires) into a dress and heels. Bog blushed when he saw her. She looked lovely, though he felt as if Princess Marianne had just slipped into her uniform instead of dressing as herself. She wore a dark blue pencil skirt with a black turtleneck and a matching dark blue dress coat over the top, trimmed in fake black fur, with black hose and knee-length black boots. Her short brown hair was mostly hidden under a fake black fur hat, with a hand held purse that matched. 

Bog had freshened up, changed clothes into a pair of black slacks, a dark blue (he would have laughed because he and the princess were in matching colors) fisherman’s sweater, but with a V-neck. The buttons were undone making him look more casual with the same black coat and boots. 

Marianne lifted a brow at him, her eyes taking in his outfit, though she said nothing. 

Bog pulled out a pad and pen from his pocket. “Just wanted to let you know I’ll be taking notes while we’re out. “ 

Marianne pressed her lips together and nodded. 

* 

Bog sat in the back of the car with Marianne who sat with her knees together, hands resting on her lap, wrapped around her purse while Brutus drove them. 

Bog pressed his lips together, glanced out the window then back at her. “What kind of shopping are you doing, Your Highness?” 

Marianne glanced over at him wrinkling her nose slightly when Bog said “Your Highness.” The title sounded strange coming from him. “Christmas shopping for my family. Afterward, I’m also making a stop at the St. Nicholoas Orphanage and School to drop off Christmas presents.” 

Bog tilted his head. “Will there be press there?” 

Marianne made a sour face at him. “No, no there will not.” 

Bog smiled at her. “So this is just something you like to do?” 

Marianne smiled. “I like to buy from local merchants, it was a tradition my mother started. She wasn’t royalty by the way. She was the daughter of the royal tailor. My father fell in love with her, went against tradition and married her.” Marianne sighed softly. “I miss her.” 

Bog nodded. “I know how you feel, lost my father. My Mam remarried, which is how Sunny and I got to be brothers. My stepdad is great, but I still miss my father.” 

Marianne glanced down at her hands, then back up at him. “Are you and Sunny close?” 

Bog nodded. “Yes, he’s my brother. Just because we don’t share blood doesn’t mean we look at each other as less than siblings. I’d give him my kidney--whatever he needed.” 

Marianne gazed at Bog. “I feel the same about my sister...we are related, no scandal there.” Bog laughed at that, which made her giggle. 

“So what are you getting your sister for Christmas?” Bog asked. 

Marianne giggled. “You’ll see.” 

* 

Bog noticed as they slipped out of the car that Marianne had only Brutus as her bodyguard (though he was big enough to make up for at least four bodyguards) and him. He also noticed that most people who saw her bowed or waved, saw that Marianne was treated with respect and friendliness though he did note a few people give her narrow-eyed looks or whispers from some, perhaps Lord Roland’s supporters. A few people took pictures, but no one shoved their way toward her or tried to get close. If there were any reporters around, they kept themselves quiet, though judging by the snarling countenance of Brutus, anyone who got too close who wasn’t supposed to speak to the princess was going to get a very large fist in their face for their troubles. 

Bog and Marianne visited several local shops, a jeweler who was also a metal worker. There Marianne bought a pair of emerald cufflinks for her father that she had commissioned for him. Next, they visited a local toymaker who specialized in woodwork and mechanical toys, a real artist Bog thought as he toured the store, while Marianne was in discussions with the owner about buying several toys for the orphanage. While she was there Marianne also purchased a beautiful handmade dollhouse. The toy was exquisite, with all the furniture made by hand as well, from little tables and chairs, down to the little dishes and silverware. 

“Dawn always wanted a dollhouse, but my mother died before getting her one,” Marianne said as she lovingly ran her fingers over the edge of the house’s roof. “Dawn mentioned the house a few weeks ago when she was remembering our mother. I thought it was time she had that dollhouse.” Marianne ran her fingers down the columns of the little house’s porch with a smile. 

Bog was leaning over looking inside and admiring all the little details. “This is gorgeous. I think it's a wonderful gift.” He glanced up at her and Marianne swallowed when her eyes met his vivid blue gaze. 

Marianne smiled, a blush creeping along her cheeks. “Thank you. Now, there is another shop I would like to go to…” 

Marianne began walking out the door with Bog beside her, Brutus holding the door open for them. “She makes these, dear little rag dolls. I thought I might buy some for the orphanage but I wanted to get a few for some of the staff who have children…” 

“That’s nice,” Bog observed. “Hey, do you think I could pop out for a cigarette?” Bog asked. 

Marianne wrinkled her nose at him. “That’s a rather nasty habit isn’t it?” 

They had just stepped out onto the sidewalk, Bog opening his mouth to respond when someone called out. “Why Princess Marianne! What a surprise to see you here!” Bog ran into Marianne’s back as she stopped dead. Over her shoulder, he saw an extremely handsome man with thick sunshine yellow hair, green eyes, and a dimpled chin. He was wearing what was clearly an expensive suit, Bog could just tell by the cut of it, the way it fit the man perfectly, a light grey suit with a green dress shirt that brought out the man’s eyes. He smiled showing off perfect white teeth. 

Marianne hissed under her breath. “Lord Roland.”


	2. Peasants and Princesses

Bog narrowed his eyes, instantly disliking the handsome man--not because Roland was everything he wasn’t (though that didn’t help), but the smarmy, smartass look on the lord’s face set Bog’s bullshitter meter in the red. Over the years, Bog had become adept in recognizing a jerk when he saw one. Roland smiled, one of those smiles that was too perfect, his teeth too straight, too white. His teeth were so white that they looked painted on. It was really disturbing, Bog thought with a grimace. It made the writer think of ventriloquist dummies. Bog also took in the expensive suit Lord Knight wore (it fit Roland too well not to be tailored and while Bog wasn’t an expert on suits, the one Roland wore just exuded money.) 

Roland reached up to wrap his finger around one long blonde curl, twirling it around his finger at the same time waggling his eyebrows at Princess Marianne in a clearly rude and suggestive manner before he let the curl go to bounce back against his forehead. Roland gave a bow that could only be interpreted as mocking. 

“Buttercup, you look beautiful today,” Lord Roland Knight said along with a condescending smirk that Bog wanted to punch right off the man’s smug face. 

Bog looked confused and mouthed, glancing sideways at Marianne. “Buttercup?” 

Brutus glanced at the princess. “Would you like me to take care of him, Princess Marianne?” 

(Their small group was beginning to draw a crowd. People were always hungry for gossip and from what Princess Marianne had said, Lord Knight here had been feeding that hungry beast with his interviews and TV appearances. Now those same people were hoping for some exciting display, a confrontation between the tight-lipped princess and the handsome oord was better than reality television.) 

Marianne held her hand up to stop Brutus. “That will not be necessary, but thank you Brutus.” She took a steadying breath and said to the blonde man standing before her. “Good afternoon Lord Roland. Is there something I could help you with?” 

Roland grinned at her. “As a matter of fact, yes. I thought that perhaps you would enjoy some company Princess Marianne--and perhaps we could rekindle something.” He bowed low and held his hand out to her. 

Bog rolled his eyes dramatically. He had only been in the presence of this guy for a few seconds and could see that his green eyes were brown from the shit he was full of, but Princess Marianne took the noble’s hand--petty noble, Bog thought with a barely perceptible lift of one corner of his upper lip. 

“I don’t see why we cannot be civil. I am about to go to Guzzetti’s Dolls.” Princess Marianne lifted Roland up from his bow, but she pulled her hand away and began to walk. 

Bog exchanged a look of confusion with Brutus before he shook his head and pulled out his package of cigarettes from inside his coat. He dropped into step next to Marianne, who had started to walk down the sidewalk, while he put the cigarette between his lips and pulled out his lighter. 

Roland glanced at the Bog. The wrinkles on his brow didn’t last long, but it had definitely been there as he said to Marianne. “I had heard ou were having a reporter following you around for the next two weeks, an…” He wrinkled his nose in clear disgust this time. “...American.” 

Bog took a deep drag on his cigarette glancing sideways at Roland. “My father’s Scottish.” 

Marianne glanced at Bog, wrinkling her nose at him and giving a pointed look at the cigarette. Bog just shrugged his shoulders before returning his attention to Roland. 

Roland’s perfect smile turned upside down with a grimace. “Is that supposed to be better? Anyway, I had heard that this is about the good press for the royal family, is that true? I’m assuming it must be since you have such a common, hirsute person with you unless this person is a new bodyguard?” Roland asked with raised eyebrows. 

Bog snarled at Roland, rubbing at his beard with one hand. 

Princess Marianne pressed her lips together for a moment before she answered. “I would be very interested in knowing how you achieved that information, but yes. Mr. King here is working on a book and the crown has agreed to let him observe us.” 

Roland frowned slightly. “So what about the piece he is supposed to be doing on you?” 

He figured the princess was simply trying to be polite in public, which was why she hadn’t kicked Roland to the curb when he showed up, but Bog had no such qualms. 

Bog answered, flicking ashes from his cigarette. “So, let me guess--you came slithering out here to find the Princess because yer worried she might finally be fighting back against all the shit you’ve been saying about her?” Bog lifted a dark brow with a level look at Roland. “Or maybe you thought you might get in on some more publicity for yourself? You that much of an attention whore Lord Roland?” 

Princess Marianne just barely stopped a giggle from escaping her lips, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. She was glad they were walking so that no one else could hear this conversation before she murmured. “Please, Mr. King. Language.” 

Bog smiled at her around his cigarette, his blue eyes dancing with mischief. “Sorry, Your Highness.” 

Roland shrugged his shoulders as they walked. “There is no such thing as bad publicity, isn't that what that Americans say?” 

Bog shrugged, blowing out some smoke from between his lips. “I suppose that depends on who’s writing the story.” 

They arrived at the front of the toy store, which wasn’t impressive looking thought Bog. He saw a small shop window through which he could see a few dolls displayed and a wooden sign hanging above. 

Marianne turned to Roland. “Well, if you’ll excuse me…” 

Roland bowed and pushed the door open for her. “Perhaps I will purchase something inside as well. Besides, I realize now how much I missed talking with you, Princess. We did have such fun together, didn’t we?” 

Marianne pursed her lips, remained silent as she walked inside. 

Bog put his cigarette out against the brick wall by the entrance to the store and shoved the butt into his pocket. (He wasn’t about to drop it on the street once he had seen how clean the place was kept. The Princess gave him a slightly annoyed look, catching sight of him putting out the cigarette, but didn’t say anything.) He followed her inside, grinning at Roland. “Thanks for getting the door, pal.” 

Roland gave him a dirty look and followed after with Brutus towering over him from behind. 

The inside of the store was like something out of a storybook Bog thought as he looked around. The store’s interior was a child’s paradise of dolls, from the dolls themselves to everything any child would want to go with said dolls. The little man behind the counter looked like he could be Santa Claus’s skinnier brother, wearing slacks and suspenders with a Christmas themed apron over the top. 

“Princess Marianne!” The old man hurried around the counter to bow, but Marianne grasped the man’s hands, immediately pulling him up. “Mr. Guzzetti! Please, you know you never need to bow around me.” She pulled the older man closer and kissed his cheek. 

Mr. Guzzetti blushed. “Ah my dear, it's so nice to see you.” He glanced at the nobleman with a confused frown on his face. “Lord Roland, it’s a pleasure to see you as well.” 

Roland grinned. “Of course it is.” 

Mr. Guzzetti turned to Bog. “And who is this nice, very tall young man?” 

Bog chuckled and held his hand out. “I’m Bog King, I’m the Princess’s…” 

Marianne smiled. “Mr. King is a writer. He will be my shadow over the holidays gathering information for a book he is working on.” 

“Mr. King? Bog King! Really?!” Mr. Guzzetti gasped. “I’ve read your books Mr. King! You are one of my favorite authors!” 

Bog blushed and smiled. “Why, thank you.” 

“Since you will be staying in our wonderful city, do you think perhaps you would autograph one of your books for me?” Mr. Guzzetti smiled hopefully. 

Bog nodded. “Of course.” 

“Wonderful! Wonderful!” Mr. Guzzetti gushed before turning back to Marianne. “So my dear, are you here to purchase dolls for the orphanage?” 

Marianne nodded, but Roland spoke up. “I would also be interested in purchasing some...toys for the little tykes myself.” 

Marianne looked surprised. “Really?” 

Roland puffed out his chest. “Of course.” 

Bog frowned. Roland was clearly up to something, but Bog couldn’t believe the man would be trying to get back with the Princess. Could he be so...delusional? 

* 

Over the course of the next hour, Marianne ordered and organized the purchase of several hundred more toys to go along with the others she had already purchased earlier. Bog learned that Marianne also liked to arranged for the local Santa to be able to give out small gifts to all the children that came to sit on his lap. (Lafast didn’t have a shopping center or mall, but they did have a winter wonderland set up in the city’s largest public park where the children could go and see Santa Claus.) 

Roland was charming the entire time, too charming as far as Bog was concerned. It was clear to Bog that Lord Roland Knight was scheming. 

After finishing her purchases, Marianne smiled. “Well, now I shall be heading to the orphanage, then I suppose I should be getting back to the castle. There are still a few last-minute details for the cocktail party tonight for the return of my cousin Elisabeth from college.” She glanced at Bog. “My cousin, Lady Elisabeth Toth has been away at college and is coming home for the holidays along with my aunt, Duchess Aura Toth.” 

Roland frowned slightly. “I didn’t know the Duchess was going to be there.” 

Marianne turned and blinked in surprise. “What...are you going to be there?” 

Roland grinned. “Why yes Princess, didn’t your father tell you? My family will be attending the cocktail party tonight, as well as the Christmas Ball.” 

Marianne paled. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised. If her father was trying to heal the mess that Roland had made of the royal family’s image--and particularly her image--inviting the Knights to the cocktail party and the annual Christmas Ball would make the royal family look good, and it might even start rumors that she and Roland were… 

Marianne looked more closely at Roland. Was he trying to...no, she thought, but as he smiled at her, her heart dropped to her stomach. She hid her dismay with a smile. 

“Well, I look forward to seeing you there Lord Roland,” Marianne said, keeping her voice steady. 

Roland grinned. “Promise to save a dance for me.” 

Lord Roland Knight bowed, took her hand, and kissed Marianne’s knuckles before he turned and slipped outside. Bog glanced out the store window and could see several people hanging around out there who immediately started to follow Roland. The blonde nobleman began to talk to them. Bog narrowed her eyes. Something was definitely up with that man. 

“You all right, Your Highness?” Bog asked. 

Marianne looked a little pale, but she nodded “I’m fine. Let us go.” 

* 

The drive to the orphanage didn't take very long. Marianne was quiet the entire drive. Bog could see she was lost in thought and his lips settled into a thin line as he worried for her. Dealing with your ex was never ideal, but when you had to do it in the public eye, it had to be a hundred times worse. Princess Marianne was trying to be polite, trying to do the right thing, but clearly Roland Knight was going to take advantage of the princess’s civility. 

It was nice to see the dark cloud that had been hanging over Marianne evaporate when Brutus pulled up in front of the St. Nicholas Orphanage. The building was a large, old brick building built in the Romanesque Revival style with the monochromatic masonry, semicircular window and door openings, corbel tables, and square towers. But instead of having an institutional look, the building was decked out for Christmas with lights trimming the building, along with ribbons and Christmas ornaments in the trees that were littered across the lawn. Bog thought the place looked cheerful and inviting. 

When the car pulled up and Brutus got out to come around and open Princess Marianne’s door, the doors of the orphanage flew open and a dozen children came rushing out and down the stairs, all of them yelling. 

“PRINCESS MARIANNE!!!” 

The children were followed by an older woman in slacks and a sweater, her short dark bob bouncing as the woman rushed down the steps after them. 

“Children!! Manners!!” the older woman said with a laugh as the children surrounded the Princess as soon as she stepped out of the car. 

Princess Marianne laughed, putting her arms out, the children rushing around her, all of them hugging her and speaking at once. “How are you all?!” 

A little girl with skin the color of dark chocolate and pigtails that were wrapped with red ribbons, jumped up and down, holding a piece of paper that she flapped around. “Princess Marianne, 

Princess Marianne! I drew you a picture!!” 

Marianne laughed and took the picture, giving it a serious look. “Oh my, is this me and Princess Dawn?” 

The little girl nodded vigorously. “Yes!! Do you like it?” 

Marianne smiled brightly. “I do. I love it--may I keep it?” 

The little girl giggled, blushing. “Yes!” 

A little boy with a flopping mop of brown hair, tugged on Marianne’s coat. “Are you and Princess Dawn going to come to our Christmas play Princess Marianne?” 

Marianne nodded, crouching down to be able to look at each child in the eye on an equal level. “Of course I will! It’s next week isn’t it?” 

The little boy nodded and grinned at her, showing off his missing front teeth. 

Bog had walked around to stand near Brutus, leaning his hip against the hood of the car, his arms crossed over his chest, and watched as Marianne addressed each of the children who excitedly spoke to her. 

Bog glanced at Brutus. “Kids love her, huh?” 

Brutus nodded, watching the princess. “They love both the princesses. Their Highnesses spend a great deal of time here.” 

Bog nodded, then frowned. “Yet people are willing to believe whatever fiction Roland Knight spins?” 

Brutus shrugged. “The Princesses don’t advertise what they do. They both simply donate their time and money to the charities that mean a great deal to them. Both princesses do a lot of work with children, the environment, they visit hospitals, and tour green projects. They don’t like to have the press present when they visit places like this because they both feel it detracts from what they are doing.” Brutus smiled. “Their good works should speak for themselves, but Lord Knight is also well-liked for his good looks and charm I suppose.” 

Bog frowned as he watched Marianne. She looked beautiful with a genuine happy smile on her face, letting the children hug and kiss her, listening to everything they told her. It was sweet and very genuine. 

Marianne stood up. “Oh, before I forget; I want you all to meet a new friend of mine.” 

Marianne glanced over at Bog and motioned him over. Bog blinked in surprise, glancing at Brutus who motioned with one hand over to the princess. 

Bog walked over and said awkwardly, “Uh, hi.” 

Marianne smiled. “Children, this is Mr. Bog King. He is…” She frowned clearly not sure what to say about him but Bog smiled. 

“I write books.” 

The children all stared at Bog when one of the little boys gasped. “You are so tall!! Are you a giant?” 

Bog laughed, but a little girl yelled back. “He’s too skinny to be a giant! He’s an elf.” 

Another child chimed in. “Elves don’t have beards.” 

“Giants do,” said another. 

Marianne covered her mouth, giggling and lifting her eyebrows at Bog. 

Bog smiled at the children. “Nope, sorry. Not an elf or a giant--I’m just really tall.” 

Another little girl called out. “Are you Princess Marianne’s new boyfriend?” 

A little towheaded boy asked with a very serious expression on his little face. “Are you going to marry Princess Marianne?” 

Bog blushed, dropping down to a crouch. “Princess Marianne and I are just friends.” 

Another little girl said in a loud whisper. “He has pretty eyes.” 

Which started other children chiming in about how pretty Bog’s eyes were, with the little girl who had claimed Bog was an elf saying once more. “Only elves have pretty eyes like that. Told you he was an elf.” 

* 

The woman who had accompanied the children outside was named Sophia Wagner and was the director of the St. Nicholas Orphanage and School. She took Bog and Princess Marianne (along with the group of children) on a tour of the orphanage at Marianne’s request in order to show Bog the work they did with the children. 

Bog loved the fact that the school, like the castle, was completely decorated for Christmas. 

The tour ended in the school’s cafeteria where the children were having lunch. Bog and the Princess (along with Brutus) sat down and ate lunch with the children. 

Bog was sitting next to Marianne with a little girl on his other side while Marianne had another little girl at her side. 

The little girl, named Grace, looked up at Bog and offered him one of her carrot sticks. “Would you like one?” 

Bog smiled, taking the carrot stick. “Thank you, Grace.” 

Grace grinned up at him. “I like you.” 

Bog grinned and gave her a wink. “Well, I like you too.” 

Grace giggled then whispered in that loud way that only children could manage. “I think you should marry Princess Marianne. She’s been unhappy, but I think you would make her happy.” 

Bog blinked in surprise but leaned down to ask her (the Princess was talking to three children, describing the Christmas trees in the castle for them), “She’s been unhappy?” 

Grace nodded with the wisdom of a seven year old. “Yep. When she didn’t get married, she got really sad. It’s okay though, I didn’t like Lord Roland. He’s a…” She twisted her little face up then said softly. “I’m not supposed to say bad words, but he’s a buttface with a mop head.” 

Bog stared at her for a moment before he burst out laughing, drawing Marianne’s attention. She glanced over her shoulder at him, but Bog nudged her back. 

“Hey no listening. Grace and I are telling secrets.” Bog winked at Grace who giggled. 

Princess Marianne chuckled. “Oh, fine then.” But she gave Bog a soft smile. 

* 

On the way back to the castle Marianne said softly. “You were very good with the children today. Roland never was comfortable around children. I think he went to school with me once, maybe twice during our engagement before he finally stopped coming with me altogether.” 

Bog wrinkled his nose and said. “Roland does sound like a buttface.” 

Marianne giggled. “He is.” 

Bog licked his bottom lip before he said softly. “I’m sorry he’ll be at your party tonight and your Christmas Ball.” 

Marianne sighed looking out the window. “Me too, but the protocol must be upheld. Protocol doesn’t care about bruised egos and broken hearts.” 

Bog watched her, gazing at her profile. She was a very beautiful woman, but she was sad. There was a deep sadness in her brown eyes, around her mouth. That douche Roland had not only hurt her, he had destroyed her hope for a happy ever after with her prince charming. He had made her feel worthless too. Bog knew a thing or two about feeling worthless. 

He didn’t realize he was doing it until Bog reached over and brushed his fingers against one of her hands that lay folded in her lap over her purse. 

The touch startled Marianne so much that she jumped, turning to look over at Bog with wide eyes. He knew he had taken a chance by touching a royal without permission, but he felt he had to say something. 

“You know, no matter what Roland did, that isn’t a reflection of who you are. You didn't drive him to hurt you and you didn't make him do it. That is all on Roland. You are not the reason he did what he did. You are a wonderful, beautiful, caring, woman. So don’t let a man like that make you feel worthless.” 

Bog gave her a gentle smile. 

Marianne stared at him for a beat. The writer looked so soulful with those incredible blue eyes of his, so sweet. She realized just how much she needed to hear those words, especially from someone who knew what it was like to be hurt by someone you cared about. She rotated her hand and took his hand in hers. 

“Thank you Bog,” she whispered. 

Bog gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Anytime, Your Highness.” 

Marianne giggled and playfully tossed his hand back at him. “Stop calling me Your Highness.” 

Bog chuckled. “Mm...Your Worshipfulness maybe?” 

Marianne laughed. “Star Wars? Really? You are a nerd.” 

Bog wrinkled his nose playfully at her. “Seems you are too princess since you knew my reference there.” 

Marianne blushed and giggled, gazing at him. “Maybe just a little bit.” 

Bog smiled brightly at her. “A nerdy princess, I love it.” 

Brutus glanced in the rearview mirror and lifted his eyebrows, a smile breaking across his large face. 

* 

When they returned to the castle, Bog and Marianne parted ways since they both needed to get ready for the cocktail party that evening. 

Before Marianne walked away, she turned to Bog with a soft smile. “I’ll come by to pick you up and take you to the party.” 

Bog’s smile was lopsided. “Thanks. I doubt I would have been able to find it on my own.” 

Marianne chuckled. “Wear something nice, but don’t worry about dressing up too much; it's just a small party. See you in a little while.” 

Bog nodded, sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Yeah, see you soon, princess.” 

Marianne smiled. “Please, just call me Marianne.” 

Bog smiled shyly. “Marianne.” 

Bog watched Marianne disappear into the castle. He glanced sideways at Brutus who was still standing beside him. “Everything okay or are you going to give me a beat down or something for calling the princess a nerd?” 

Brutus chuckled and shook his head. “No sir. I just...well I just wanted to tell you, that what you said in the car, the princess needed to hear that. So, ah, I just wanted to thank you.” 

Bog felt his lips curl into a smile and blushed. He looked down at his boots rubbing the toe of one boot against the carpet. “It was nothing. She’s a good person.” 

Brutus nodded. “Yes she is, sir.” 

Bog took a breath through his nose then asked. “Is it okay if I head outside and have a cigarette before I change for the party?” 

Brutus nodded. “Yeah, just make sure you don’t leave the butts on the ground.” 

Bog nodded in response as Brutus added. “You should really stop smoking sir.” 

Bog shrugged. “I know,” he admitted. “I guess I just haven’t found the motivation yet.” 

Brutus nodded his understanding before he headed off into the castle too. Bog turned around and headed outside. 

* 

He walked around the side of the castle, lighting his cigarette as he went. He had started smoking a few years ago after his break up. It was a self-destructive behavior he had picked up instead of drinking. He knew that, but he had never been able to beat it. If he was honest with himself, he hadn’t really tried either. 

Bog frowned, taking a deep and contemplative drag on his cigarette. Maybe he should give up smoking for his health, but there was a part of him that wondered how much it mattered really. He had told Marianne that Roland’s cheating wasn’t her fault, and it wasn’t, but he had a difficult time listening to his own words. He smirked a little, remembering his father once telling him to do as he said, not as he did; just because you weren’t following your own advice, didn't make that advice worthless. 

He sighed, letting smoke roll from his nostrils as he walked toward the snow-covered gardens path. His own bad habits were not something he should be worrying about right now. Right now he had to worry about gathering information for his book and writing that piece that would show the world just who Princess Marianne really was, not the image that Roland Knight had been weaving for the world. 

Bog pulled his coat around him a little more snugly as he walked. It was chilly outside and since the sun was going down, the temperature was steadily dropping. The sky looked like there was a promise of more snow soon, but he thought the grey sky was beautiful. Bog smiled. He always liked the cold weather, snow, and rain. He blew out a stream of smoke, looking around with a smile. He could see the evergreens around the outside of the castle walls covered with snow, the snow capped mountains in the distance. He sighed in pleasure and couldn't imagine what growing up here was like. Lidvessa was like a fairytale kingdom, with a fairytale princess. 

Bog walked with one hand shoved inside his coat pocket, his cigarette held between the fingers of his other hand. The thought that he might want to purchase some gloves drifted through his mind, and maybe a scarf too. He wondered if he could get a ride into town to do some shopping or did they have a gift shop at the castle, he thought with amusement. 

As Bog turned into the gardens he saw that the snow-covered bushes were all decorated with fairy lights that had just twinkled to life as the sun was going down. He noticed that one side of the castle, the household had even decorated some of the trees out here with ornaments, tastefully done of course, but he liked how it looked--a very winter wonderland feel. He was thinking he might walk a little further only to stop a few moments later when he heard the sound of smothered crying that sounded as if it were coming from the other side of a tall line of twinkling hedges. 

Bog stopped in his tracks to listen. Yes, that was definitely the sound of someone crying. He dropped his cigarette on the ground to put it out with his shoe before stooping to pick it up again and shove the mashed filter into his pocket. He moved quietly, slipping around the corner of a tall line of hedges and looked to see Princess Dawn, dressed in a fluffy pink coat trimmed in white fur, with a matching white fur hat. Her white mittens were covering her face while she tried to hide her crying alone, sitting on a cold stone bench. 

Bog frowned in surprise at seeing the youngest princess. He sucked on his bottom lip, immediately turning to walk away, but stopped. He couldn’t just leave her sitting on a cold stone bench crying outside, alone. 

He sighed and turned back around. 

“Princess Dawn?” Bog said her name softly. 

Princess Dawn gulped in surprise, dropping her hands and turning to look at him. Her pretty eyes were bloodshot and her nose was red from crying. 

“Oh, oh Mr. King...I am sorry…” 

Bog frowned, stepping slowly over to her. “Everything all right?” He cringed at his choice of words. Of course, she wasn’t all right. 

Dawn stared at him for a beat before her bottom lip began to tremble and she shook her head. “No, no everything isn’t all right.” Tears began to flow down her cheeks. 

Bog hurried over to her and sat down on the bench beside her. He hesitated for just a moment before he put his arm around her shoulders. The youngest princess leaned against him, bursting into tears. 

“I don’t know what to do Mr. King!” Princess Dawn sniffled. “I just don’t know what to do…” 

Bog frowned, the youngest princess’s head against his shoulder as he rubbed her arm. “Why don’t you tell me what the problem is and maybe I can help.” 

Dawn pushed up to look at him. She really was a pretty girl Bog thought with a smile. Where Princess Marianne was like a rose, beautiful but thorny, Princess Dawn made him think of a daisy, open to the sun, soft, gentle and full of light. 

“I’m in love Mr. King,” Dawn said softly. 

Bog frowned. “Please, call me Bog. In love,” he said, his brow creasing. “But you’re crying.” 

Dawn nodded, looking down at her mittened hands that she had rested on her lap. “He’s not appropriate for me to be in love with.” 

Bog nodded. “Inappropriate how? He’s a bad guy?” 

Dawn shook her head. “Oh no, he’s the best! He’s wonderful.” 

Bog looked confused, but Dawn asked softly while looking around at the deserted snowy gardens. “Can I tell you a secret...Bog?” 

Bog nodded. “You have my word no one will hear what you have to say from me.” He crossed his one long finger over his chest. “You have my word.” 

Dawn smiled at him and whispered. “I’m in love with your stepbrother, with Sunny.” 

Bog blinked in surprise, then smiled. “Really?” 

She nodded vigorously. “Yes really!” 

“I realized it six months ago. I mean we’ve been friends practically from the moment he started working here in the castle. We talked all the time, Sunny became not just a friend, but my best friend, my confidant, but…” She sighed. “I realized six months ago that he…” She sighed and dropped her gaze back to her hands. “I realized that I loved him. It was the night of the Spring Ball. The man I was supposed to be at the ball with stood me up…” 

Bog made a sound to which Dawn smiled. “Princesses do get stood up. Anyway, Sunny came and took my hands…” Dawn looked up again her eyes drifting back to that night. “He pulled me out onto the veranda and smiled at me. He said. “Would you dance with me Dawn?” She glanced at Bog. “He didn’t call me Princess, just Dawn…” She sighed. “We danced alone on that veranda…” She turned to look at Bog. “I realized at that moment that I’d been in love with Sunny for a long time.” Dawn sniffed. Bog reached into his coat, finding the bundle of Kleenex he had stuffed into his coat--for utility’s sake--and handed her one. 

She smiled at him, taking the tissue. “Thank you. Anyway, I don’t know how to tell him and...I just know my father wouldn’t approve...I don’t even know if Sunny returns my feelings. I mean, I think he does. There are these little things he does for me...but I might be wrong...and…” Her lip began to tremble again. 

Bog worried his teeth over his bottom lip before he answered. “You should tell him, tell Sunny how you feel.” 

“What if it ruins our friendship? What if he quits? I just…” She shook her head. “I don’t want that to happen.” 

Bog nodded. “I understand that, but not telling Sunny will put a strain on your relationship too.” 

Dawn nodded her understanding, then asked softly. “Could you tell him for me?” 

Bog chuckled. “No, I mean yes, yes I could, but you don’t need someone else involved. I know Sunny pretty well…” He smiled and elbowed her softly, making her giggle. “I think he would like to know, and I can tell you this: when Sunny and I have talked over the years he’s been here, he’s spoken a lot about you.” 

Dawn’s eyes brightened. “Really?” 

Bog nodded. “Really.” 

Dawn pressed her lips together in thought before she asked. “What do I do and he feels the same way?” 

Bog rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I suppose that would be up to the two of you, but you shouldn’t let things like status or station stop you when you find love.” 

Dawn grinned at Bog before she suddenly leaned over and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. “Thank you Bog, thank you.” 

Bog stiffened a little when she hugged him, but relaxed reaching over to awkwardly pat her shoulder. “You’re welcome. I hope I helped.” 

Dawn released him and stood up. “You did. See you are the party tonight?” 

Bog nodded. “Can’t wait.” 

Bog watched Dawn hurry off, the young princess turning to wave and smile at him. He sighed once she was out of earshot, but he was smiling. He had suspected that Sunny might be a little more than enamored with Princess Dawn, though he hadn’t given it much thought really. Sunny had talked about her a lot when he discussed his job, but now that Bog was really thinking about it, he was pretty sure there were some feelings there on Sunny’s part for the pretty little princess. He hoped that whatever happened, they both ended up happy. 

* 

Bog frowned at his reflection in the full-length mirror. 

He hadn’t really packed any clothing that would be considered “sophisticated” party clothing. He wasn't really sure why he hadn’t thought about it. Two weeks before Christmas, royalty he supposed, partied a lot for the holidays. 

He sighed and ran his fingers through his dark hair, wondering if maybe he should have shaved the beard. He was dressed in black slacks, his boots (because he didn’t actually own a pair of dress shoes), a dark grey dress shirt, no tie, but he had left the buttons undone to just below the hollow of his throat, and a grey vest. He had rolled the sleeves up on the dress shirt to his elbows (having the sleeves down and buttoned had made him feel weirdly half-dressed with the lack of a tie.) 

“Well, this is as good as it gets,” Bog told the mirror version of himself. 

That was when he heard a knock at his door. He walked over quickly and opened it to see Princess Marianne. 

Bog took in a breath when he saw her. She was wearing a simple dark purple dress that hung to her just above her knees. The sheath dress hugged her figure and had a rounded neckline with three-quarter sleeves, contrast semi-sheer mesh yokes and shoulders with faux-pearl embellishments. She wore black heels that gave her another inch in height. She had styled her short hair close to her head with a jeweled head back. Her makeup was dark, the purples in her eyeshadow made her eyes pop in a way that stopped Bog’s heart. 

“Wow,” Bog responded on seeing her. 

Princess Marianne blushed. “Well, you clean up rather well too, Mr. King.” 

Bog chuckled and did a spin. “Sorry, I don’t have an actual suit with me.” 

Marianne laughed. “Nonsense, you look very nice.” She put her hand out to him. “Shall we?” 

Bog stepped out of his room, shutting the door behind him before he took her hand and wrapped her arm around his with a pat on her hand. “I’m ready if you are, princess.” 

Marianne giggled softly and headed down the hall leading Bog to the cocktail party. 

* 

The cocktail party was held in a small, intimate room with dark red and gold being the dominant color scheme, which was complemented by the multitude of Christmas trees throughout the room, decorated in red and gold. There were men and women dressed in black and white carrying trays with sparkling drinks and appetizers. Soft Christmas music was being played by a string quartet, who were currently playing “The First Noel.” 

When Bog and Marianne entered the room, every eye turned to see the princess. Bog stiffened. The looks of disapproval that washed over several faces at seeing him made him feel self-conscious--worse than his most nerve-wracking book signing gig. He felt a bit like Princess Marianne had walked into the party with the local garbage man on her arm who had carried the stink of the trash in with him. 

Marianne felt Bog stiffen at her side as he muttered under his breath. “I’m sorry Marianne, I shouldn’t have come in with you.” 

She turned to look up at him. “Bog, don’t worry about them. You look very handsome. Most of them are just snobs.” 

Bog looked down at her, a smile playing at his lips. “Aren’t these your people?” 

Marianne began to walk and her hold on Bog’s arm tightened when she sensed him trying to break free. She had only known him for a few hours, but she knew if she let him go he would slink off somewhere to hide in a corner. 

“They are mostly the people I have to...entertain. Very few of them are my friends,” Marianne said softly. 

Bog frowned with a sideways look down at her. “That must be lonely.” 

Marianne looked up, their eyes meeting. “Yes. Most people here are more concerned about my title and the fact that I will be taking over for my father someday than they are about who I am as a person.” 

Bog shook his head. “I’m sorry. They don’t know what they are missing out on. I’ve known you for less than a day and you are more fascinating than anyone I know.” Marianne blushed, her eyes gentle as she looked up at him, a sweet and soft smile on her lips that felt like a gift, just for him. Bog felt something crack in his chest followed by a feeling of warmth that spread throughout his entire body. 

“Thank you Bog,” she said quietly as she reached up to give his biceps a gentle squeeze which only made that rush of warmth through his body that much stronger. 

“Do you have a lot of friends?” Marianne asked. 

Bog frowned. “No, no I don’t. I’m not the easiest person to get to know, and I think most people are afraid of ending up in one of my books.” Bog chuckled, followed by a shrug. “No, I’ve never been very good at making friends. Mostly, I have acquaintances.” 

Marianne laughed softly at his book remark but added gently. “So you understand what it's like...the loneliness.” 

Bog nodded. “Yeah, I do.” One of the waiters walked by and Bog inclined his head toward the tray of sparkling drinks. “Drink?” 

Marianne nodded. “Thank you.” 

Bog released her and reached out to grab two glasses off the tray, handing one to Marianne. 

He took a sip. “Mm...that’s good.” 

Marianne nodded. “Only the best for my father.” 

Bog had just opened his mouth to ask Marianne if she wanted him to grab her some food when a woman came bustling toward them, pushing her way through the crowd. 

“Princess Marianne! Marianne my dear!!” The woman came rushing forward. She was an older woman, but attractive, her hair cut and styled in a short curling bob that would not have been out of place in the 1930s. Even the gown she wore, an ice blue ankle-length silk dress with a natural waist, made the older woman look as if she had stepped straight from a period film. She had very large blue eyes, immediately conjuring up the actress Bette Davis to Bog’s mind. 

Marianne smiled, clearly pleased to see the older woman. “Auntie Aura!” Marianne gasped as she was quickly wrapped up in the older woman’s embrace. 

“Oh, my sweet girl!! It’s so nice to see you!” The woman gushed before turning her attention to Bog, who immediately felt uncomfortable as the woman gave him a very clear up and down evaluation. 

“Now, who is this very tall and rugged man?” The woman smiled, turning her full attention on Bog. 

Marianne smiled. “Aunt Aura, this is Bog King. He is following me for the next two weeks as part of his research for a book he is writing, as well as writing an article about me. Bog, this is my aunt, The Duchess Aura Toth of Marfork.” 

The Duchess held her hand out and Bog took it, bowing over her hand with a shy smile. “Duchess, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Aura giggled like a schoolgirl. “Oh isn’t he just adorable? I do hope you’re planning on keeping him.” 

Marianne gasped with a giggle. “Auntie!” 

Bog blushed, but Aura was laughing. “What, handsome men like that don’t come along often girl. You should grab them and hold on.” She waggled her eyebrows at her niece. 

“Did I hear someone mention handsome men?” The three of them turned to see Roland, a smug smirk on his face. He was wearing a dark green suit that brought out the green of his eyes, his blonde hair swept back except for that curl on his forehead that Bog decided he would like to rip out at the roots. Bog groaned inwardly. God he needed a cigarette. 

Roland waltzed over to the three of them, holding his own drink in hand. 

“Why Duchess Aura, you look divine! And Princess Marianne, you--as always--are a beautiful sight. You simply take my breath away.” Roland reached out and snagged Marianne’s hand, kissing her knuckles as he bowed. 

Bog thought Marianne looked slightly ill. 

Roland turned his attention to Bog, curling his lip and lifting a brow. “Well, you at least tried I suppose, though your appearance does reflect a certain crudeness. I’m to assume you writers…” 

Roland infused the word writers with enough disgust that Bog felt oily. “...don’t really get out much do you? Hermits mostly? Not acquainted with good manners or anything like that, I’m sure. Let me give you a hint Mr. King: after eating, don’t suck on your fingers.” Roland laughed. 

Duchess Aura wrinkled her nose slightly. “Lord Roland, I’m surprised to see you here instead of selling yourself like a cheap whore on the television.” 

Roland paled slightly, but Bog, who had been taking a sip from his drink nearly spit it out on a laugh. 

Marianne giggled covering her mouth. “Auntie!” 

Roland sniffed, ignoring the duchess as he turned to Marianne. “Would you mind taking a turn around the room with me Princess?” 

Marianne wasn’t able to hide her dismay, Bog new her politeness would prevent her from being rude. He frowned glancing over at Marianne’s aunt, who lifted her eyebrows with a meaningful look at Bog. 

Bog was trying to decide what to do when suddenly they all heard Princess Dawn. “Bog!! Marianne!!” 

The youngest princess looked lovely in a mid-thigh length gold metallic ruffly, tiered minidress with long puff sleeves. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a loose bun with little tendrils of gold curls framing her face. 

The princess had her phone out as she grabbed Bog’s hand. “Come on! I want a picture of you and Marianne in front of one of the Christmas trees!” 

She began to pull Bog along after her. At the same time she had hooked her other arm around her sister. “Sorry Aunt Aura!! I’ll have them back soon!!” 

Aura laughed. “You go ahead dear.” 

Aura turned her gaze on Roland, a smirk on her lips. Roland frowned, looking awkwardly about before he swallowed. “Ah excuse me, I think I see Lady Catherine of Puque over there…” 

Aura watched him go, muttering under her breath. “Douche.” 

* 

Dawn pushed Bog in front of one of the biggest Christmas trees in the room. 

“Now stand there…” She shoved her sister next to him, causing Marianne to stumble a little. “And you there.” 

Dawn stepped back from them, holding her camera up. “Bog, can you put your arm around my sister?” 

Bog saw Sunny coming up behind Dawn and noticed the way Sunny was gazing at the young princess, especially after his talk with her out in the garden. Judging by the longing look in Sunny’s eyes, the feelings were mutual between the two and he didn’t think Dawn had told Sunny yet about how she felt about him. That was going to be an interesting conversation. 

Bog’s thoughts were interrupted by Dawn groaning. 

“Bog! Put your arm around her shoulders!” Dawn snarled, which managed to be an extremely cute sound. 

Bog looked down at Marianne. “Ah, do you mind if I put my arm around you?” 

Marianne smiled, looking up at him. “If you don’t, I think Her Royal Highness will throw us both in the dungeon.” 

Bog chuckled putting his arm around her. His hand lightly gripped her shoulder and he noticed her body was warm against his. He could smell of the soft, pleasant scent of her perfume, then asked with a little confusion looking down at her. “Do you have a dungeon?” 

Marianne grinned at him, showing off her teeth, her fingers pressed against his shirt. “Yes, a deep dark one.” 

Bog frowned turning around to face Dawn who yelled. “Smile!!” 

* 

The next morning Bog woke to the sound of someone banging on his door. He was supposed to have breakfast with Marianne this morning, just the two of them for sort of an interview type...thing...but he was going to meet her in some room they called the Solar, or sunroom. She wasn’t supposed to come and get him. 

He groaned rubbing his eyes and sat up. “Hold on!!” he yelled. 

He threw his legs out of bed, pulling up his pajama pants and walked shirtless over to the door. He opened it while running a hand through his messy hair, then down his face and over his beard. “Yeah?” 

Standing in his doorway was Sunny, already dressed for the day in a dark grey suit and blue tie. He was holding his phone as he looked up at Bog. “Bog, ah...we have a little bit of a problem.” 

Bog gazed at his stepbrother through sleepy, narrowed eyes. “What?” 

Sunny held his phone out to his stepbrother. On the screen was the picture that Dawn had taken last night of the two of them, Bog’s arm around Marianne’s shoulders, her body pressed up against his, her hand on his chest along with the headline: 

DOES PRINCESS MARIANNE HAVE A NEW BEAU?? 

Bog blinked, then groaned. “Ah shit.”


	3. Royal Conflicts

Sunny, Bog, and the Princesses Marianne and Dawn were all having breakfast in the castle solar room. There was quite a spread on the table, poached eggs, grilled tomatoes, bacon, fried mushrooms, fried bread, a variety of preserves, plus tea and coffee, though no one had touched the food yet. Instead, everyone was looking at Dawn, who pressed her lips together, her eyes wide with innocent. 

“I didn’t know you had a website.” Marianne looked slightly betrayed as she gazed at her sister. 

Dawn frowned and rubbed her hands down her skirt, flattening the simple light blue pencil skirt against her legs. The combination of a light blue skirt and a simple white sweater with her long blonde hair pulled back at the temples with diamond poinsettia barrettes, made her look at least ten years younger than her twenty-three years. 

“It’s just a simple little blog,” she explained with a sickly smile. “I talk about my life, put up pictures once and while and, well, I was talking about the Christmas party--because my followers like to know about those things--and I put a picture of you and Bog up because it was such a nice picture…” She shrugged with a sheepish expression on her innocent face. “That was all…I didn’t think anyone would screenshot it and spread it around. And I certainly didn’t think anyone would say what they did…” 

Sunny sighed, but he gave Dawn a soft smile. “It’s fine, but this wasn’t the publicity that we wanted for your sister.” 

Marianne, dressed in jeans and a purple turtleneck, rubbed a finger along the tabletop, not looking at anyone as she spoke. “Is it really that bad? I mean, if the public thinks I’ve moved on from Roland, maybe that’s a good thing?” She looked up. “Maybe they’ll stop listening to him? Give them something else to focus on?” 

Bog looked a little pale, but it was Sunny who said. “Maybe, but Bog’s…” He struggled to find the word trying to be polite, but Bog held no reservations about pointing out the problem. 

“I’m nobody, I’m a commoner--a peasant.” Bog, dressed in blue slacks and a dusty blue henley that brought out the blue in his eyes, muttered as he folded his arms over his chest. 

Marianne frowned, gazing at him. “So?” 

Bog frowned. “No one is going to want to see their princess with…” He gestured at himself. “Me. Look at me. You went from dating caviar to catfish.” 

Dawn giggled. “Oh Bog that metaphor is terrible. Besides, aren’t you like a famous author?!” 

Bog blushed and muttered. “I haven’t had my coffee yet, the writing brain doesn’t kick in without proper caffeine. Besides, no one really knows how I look, I don’t do a lot of public appearances, haven’t done any of those in the last few years. I don’t have a photo on my website and I don’t include photos on my dust jackets.” 

Marianne pressed her lips together before she said. “Yes, but the fact that you are a commoner, might actually be better. You are nothing like Roland…” 

Bog interrupted. “Yeah, he’s model good looking and I look like the unwanted dog at the pound.” 

“Bog, that isn’t true at all. You are quite handsome…” Marianne said with Dawn adding. “Maybe if you shave the beard off…” 

Bog gave both princesses dirty look. 

Sunny nodded. “You know, you’re correct princess.” He looked at Marianne. “You don’t need to play up any romance, but you also don’t need to respond to them. Maybe just letting the rumors circulate is a good thing…” Sunny tapped his chin in thought. 

Bog yawned. “So, we’re just gonna ignore it?” 

Sunny nodded. “Yes for now. If the rumors turn ugly, we can always straighten things out, but at this point I can’t see how Roland could turn this to his advantage. Besides, I think he might be trying to win you back.” He glanced at Marianne who made a face. 

“Oh I’m sure he is, he’s a….” She motioned with her hand, but Bog supplied the word. “Hustler?” 

Marianne nodded. “Yes. Now, can we stop talking about this? What’s done is done. I would like to eat breakfast and then I want to go make Christmas cookies today with my sister.” 

Dawn blinked in surprise. “Are we doing that today?” 

Marianne frowned. “Yes, did you forget?!” 

Dawn looked sheepish. “Well...yeah...I’d already asked Sunny to accompany me for a shopping trip into the city, but I can cancel it…” Dawn glanced at Sunny, her cheerful expression falling. 

Bog glanced over at Marianne, using his long legs to poke her in the leg with his toe. Marianne’s brown eyes shot over to him with a frown, her brow wrinkled, but when she saw Bog give her a quick head shake, her annoyance turned to confusion. He pressed his lips together and gave his head another quick shake followed by another poke with his foot, this one a little harder causing 

Marianne to jump, her knees hitting the table and causing the dishes to clatter. 

“Marianne, you okay? I said I would cancel…” Dawn began, but Marianne shook her head. 

“No, no you and Sunny go have fun. Bog can help me make cookies.” 

Bog’s brow creased, but he quickly smiled. “I would love to help with cookies.” 

Dawn lifted her eyebrows. “If you’re sure…” 

“Yes, yes. You and Sunny go shopping, it's fine.” Marianne reached over and squeezed her sister’s arm. Dawn smiled brightly, her glance moving from her sister to Sunny who was looking down at this plate, a blush on his cheeks. 

Bog grinned and began filling his plate with food. 

* 

After breakfast Bog excused himself to take a cigarette outside. He slipped on his long black coat and headed out. He had stepped out and around the corner of the castle, having just lit up his cigarette when Marianne appeared beside him. 

He thought she looked adorable in a waist-length tan parka jacket, her hands buried in the pockets. She wasn’t wearing a hat, and the tips of her ears and her nose were red from the chill. Bog took a drag on his cigarette before he asked. “What are you doing out here?” 

Marianne frowned at him. “So what was the big idea kicking me under the table? I could have you throw in the dungeon for that.” 

Bog smirked at her, taking another drag before he spoke. “Your sister likes my stepbrother.” 

Marianne wrinkled her nose. “We all like Sunny, he’s good at his job.” 

Bog flicked some ashes as he shook his head. “No, I mean she likes, likes him. I ran into her in the gardens yesterday.” He frowned. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this...I mean if you don't know then…” He sighed. “Look, the youngest princess is in love with my brother. I encouraged her to tell him and after seeing the way Sunny was looking at her last night at the ball I’m pretty sure Sunny feels the same way.” 

Marianne’s eyes widened. “She’s in love with Sunny? But...why didn't she tell me?” 

Bog shrugged taking a deep drag on the cigarette. “Probably because you’ve had enough to deal with right now with Roland and she didn’t want to bother you.” 

“But she’s my sister...I can’t believe she told you and not me.” Marianne kicked at some snow. 

Bog smiled. “Sometimes it's easier to tell a stranger something than it is family, or maybe she was afraid you would not approve.” He shrugged. 

Marianne was quiet for a moment before she said. “No. I like Sunny and I think he would be perfect for her actually. He isn’t flighty like a lot of the guys she has been out with. He cares and he knows her better than anyone besides me.” She looked up at Bog. “So, they’re going shopping, hm?” 

Bog smiled. “I guess so.” 

She glanced at his cigarette smoking between his fingers.. “You should give those up for your health.” 

Bog looked at the cigarette. “I know I should.” He sighed, flicking some ash. “Just haven’t felt motivated.” 

Marianne nodded her understanding, looking down at the snow then glanced back up at him. “Maybe we can work on that motivation together?” She gave him a sweet smile, a smile that made every nerve ending in Bog’s body come alive at once. His heart skipped a beat, then struggled to find its rhythm again while he stared down at her. She blinked up at him, her pretty eyes, her lips in a soft and tender smile, Bog felt his heart thrum heavily. 

Bog swallowed and put on a smile to hide how she had made him uncomfortable, a soft, gentle smile. “That’s sweet of you princess.” 

Marianne smiled brightly at him as Bog rolled the cigarette filter to remove the last of the tobacco, depositing the filter in his pocket and tried to hide his sudden flash of nervousness. “So, what kind of cookies are we making?” 

Marianne smiled, reaching out and taking his hand. “Let me show you.” 

* 

The castle’s kitchen was gigantic; Bog had never seen a kitchen like it. Bog’s eyes were wide as he took in the expansive chamber, trying not to spin around because there was no way he was going to see all of the room with a casual inspection. 

The room was the size of at least a banquet hall. The ceiling was arched in a way that echoed the ceiling of a church. Rows of windows ran along one wall near the ceiling, letting in a great deal of natural light. One wall was lined with hanging copper forms as well as pots and pans making the old fashioned feel of the kitchen more pronounced. Bog thought with amusement that this kitchen was a place to worship the preparation and eating of food. He liked that, had always thought of the kitchen as the heart of a home. Therefore, he thought with a small nod as if to confirm his thoughts, it would make sense that this large of a home would have such a large heart. 

Marianne rubbed her hands together and grinned as she walked quickly across the tiled floor of the kitchen. 

“I got the head cook, Lizzie Dankwood, to give us the kitchen this afternoon and believe me--she wasn’t happy about it, but making Christmas cookies is a family tradition. My mother always had us make cookies for the staff, for our father.” Marianne glanced over her shoulder at him. “Daddy was always too busy to bake with us, but he loved getting the results of our baking.” She smiled and continued. “We would make, bake, and decorate cookies, then wrap them up in bright, colorful ribbons and paper to give out as part of our Christmas gifts to the castle staff, guards, gardeners--everyone who works here.” 

Marianne stopped at one of the cabinets, pulled it open and started taking out ingredients: vanilla, molasses, and cream of tartar, followed by decorations, candy silver balls, silver and gold edible glitter, red and green sprinkles. Bog lifted an eyebrow as he saw every sort of colorful decoration available for cookies ending up on the countertop. 

The writer smiled. “I used to bake cookies with my Mam and Da. We’d make shortbread, thumbprint, and sugar cookies for my parents’ Christmas parties, send some to my grandparents, and sometimes they would send me out with baskets of cookies for the neighbors.” Bog watched Marianne as she pulled out some mixing bowls next to a standing mixer. “I miss walking down to Old Mrs. MacQuoid’s cottage. She was always so excited when we’d show up with a basket full of fresh-baked cookies…” Bog’s voice trailed off, remembering how Mrs. MacQuoid would invite them in and Bog would spend his time petting her dozen or more cats while she told Christmas stories from when she was younger. 

Marianne frowned. “A cottage?” 

Bog chuckled. “This was when I was a lot younger and we were living in Scotland…” 

“Ah,” Marianne said, then she grinned at him while she walked over to the large walk-in refrigerator. “So, you know your way around a mixer?” 

Bog smiled, walking over to help her. Marianne started putting piles of stick butter in his arms, a couple of cartons of eggs and a gallon of milk. “I’ve been known to mix a decent batch of chocolate chip cookies now and again.” 

Marianne grinned brightly at him. “Good. Now, you go set that stuff on the counter, I’m going to get us some Christmas music going, and find the flour.” 

Bog set the items on the counter and managed a mock salute even with his arms full of baking ingredients. “As you wish Your Highness.” 

Marianne giggled. 

A few seconds later Bog heard the warm sounds of Bing Cosby singing about a White Christmas. Marianne reappeared a few seconds later grinning. “We have a sound system in here…” She blushed. “Ah, never mind...anyway…” She walked over to one of the cabinets, opening a set of doors that she had to stand on tiptoe to reach. “If you could grab the measuring spoons out of that drawer under the mixer…” 

Bog frowned watching her for a few seconds as she struggled to reach something. “Do you need some help?” He hesitated for a moment before he said, “Marianne?” 

She glanced over her shoulder at him “Actually yes, I can’t reach the measuring cups…” 

Bog came over to stand behind her, easily reaching over her head to pick up the set of ceramic measuring cups that were nestled in the cabinet, one inside the other. Marianne stiffened becoming aware of Bog behind her, the brush of his hips against her rear, the warmth of his chest and the scent of him. He smelled like spiced vanilla, a whiff of cigarette smoke, and...man. He smelled like a delicious man. 

Every nerve ending in her body seemed to respond at once to the scent of Bog, the warmth his body gave off, and when he set the measuring cups down in front of her, his arms around her, Marianne felt a shock to her system as if someone had used a defibrillator on her. 

Bog went still behind her, aware of her in a way that sent sparks of fire through him. The urge to warm his arms around her was strong, strong enough that his arms began to move. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, pulling her back up against him and bury his nose against her hair. He wanted to hold her, to tell her that everything was going to be all right, that she was all right, that he thought she was wonderful. 

Instead Bog set the cups down and stepped back, his heart beating loudly in his ears. “Ah, what else do you need?” 

Marianne swallowed, composing herself before she turned around. “There is a walk-in pantry way. If you could bring me the sugar, both granular and powder, baking soda, baking powder…” 

Bog nodded. “Basically everything that we need for baking.” He gave her a smile. “Not a problem--be right back.” 

Marianne let out a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding, her entire body going weak. What on earth was that? Why had she reacted to him so intently? Maybe it was because...maybe...Marianne watched him walk away, her eyes moving down to his rear. She didn’t realize she was biting her bottom lip until it hurt. 

Marianne hissed at herself and started to search for the cookie cutters, muttering. “Been a virgin for too long, that’s what this is...too long.” 

* 

Bog came back, carrying bags of flour and sugar. He set them on the counter next to Marianne who had pulled out four different cookbooks. She smiled at him and pointed. “Why don’t you pick out a couple of recipes you like and make those. It’ll add something different to our usual cookie baskets and we could put one together for you to send to your mother.” 

Bog chuckled reaching for one of the books. “She would like that, especially since it would be a package coming all the way from Lidvessa!” 

Marianne smiled. “Well then I’ll have to make sure it's extra special. We’ll send her a special Lidvessa gift.” 

Bog shook his head. “You don’t have to do that.” 

Marianne reached over and laid her hand on his forearm. “I would love to do it.” 

Bog gazed at her, his heart thumping hard. Marianne was beautiful, sweet. He couldn’t understand how anyone could believe Roland over such a sweet, caring woman. 

Marianne stared into Bog’s blue eyes, her cheeks growing warm. He was so handsome. She hadn’t realized exactly how handsome the tall author was, but gazing into his eyes she couldn't understand why this handsome, intelligent man saw himself as ugly and unworthy of being loved or wanted. She wanted to find the woman that had hurt him and...and...put her in the dungeon! 

Marianne broke eye contact when she felt the blush on her cheeks move to her ears and looked down at her recipe. Bog started to flip through the other books. Marianne glanced sideways at Bog. She studied his profile, his long nose, sharp chin--she assumed it was sharp. Who could see anything under that beard of his, she mused. 

The princess sighed happily. 

Bog glanced up, excited. “Hey, you have a recipe for thumbprints!” 

Marianne giggled. “Grab yourself a bowl.” 

Together, while Nat King Cole sang about chestnuts, Bog and Marianne set about making large bowls of cookie dough. 

Marianne giggled, watching Bog as he held a large bowl under his arm, stirring the dough while Marianne rolled out her sugar cookies and used the cookie cutters to make snowmen, Santas, reindeer, and Christmas trees. 

Bog rolled his dough into little balls, laying them outon his cookie sheet and began to press his thumb into each one. He had filled up one sheet and had just started on the other when he stopped and looked over to Marianne. 

“You should put your thumbprint on some of these.” Bog wiped his hands with a towel before tossing it over his shoulder.. 

Marianne frowned cutting out some trees in her dough. “Why?” 

“That way they have a little bit of princess magic in them.” Bog chuckled. 

Marianne giggled in response without looking up at him. “Na...I don’t think so, your thumb is good…” 

Bog grinned at her. “Come on…” 

Marianne blushed, glancing up at him. “No, those are your cookies…” 

“Yes…” Bog slunk over to her. “Come on princess, give some of the cookies your stamp of approval…” 

Marianne put her cookie-cutter down, standing up and placing her hand on her hips giving him a smirk. “You don’t need my…” 

Suddenly Bog surprised her taking two long steps closer and wrapped his arms around her waist and lifting her off her feet. She squealed with laughter, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he carried her over to his cookie station and set her down by the cookie sheet of un-thumb printed sphere of dough. 

“There, now you have no choice but to stick your thumb in my cookies…” he said, but his voice trailed off when he set her down on her feet. Marianne slowly slid to her feet, her body trailing against his, her hands pressed against his chest, gazing up at him. 

Bog seemed to suddenly realize what he had done. He pulled his hands up in the air as if he didn’t know where to put them. “I’m...ah sorry, princess…I wasn’t thinking...” 

Marianne blinked, then stepped back out of his arms. “It’s all right...ah…” She turned toward his cookies. “So, ah. Do I just press my finger into the dough?” She looked over her shoulder at him smiling and trying to let him know that she had taken no offense at his actions. 

Bog nodded and came to stand beside her. “Yes, just like this…” 

Marianne watched as he pressed the pad of his thumb into the cookie dough, leaving an indention. “Just like that.” He smiled at her and Marianne’s mouth suddenly felt dry, her heart skipped over a beat. His eyes were amazingly blue and his smile was so...sweet. 

Marianne gave him a smile in return as she proceeded to press her thumb into the cookies. 

“When they’re done and cooled, we can put a teaspoon of jam in the little bowls, or thumbprints, of the cookies,” Bog said softly. 

“Well, let’s get these in the oven along with my cookies so we can start on the next batch.” Marianne walked back to her cookies, her heart pounding in her chest and in her ears, to pick up her tray and carry it to one of the two ovens. Bog took his tray to the other oven. They shared a look across the kitchen before sliding their cookie sheets into their respective ovens. 

* 

For the next two hours, they worked to bake more batches of cookie dough. The next batch was chocolate chip cookies. (Bog discovered a container full of chocolate chips in the pantry. His delight at finding them and carrying the container out of the pantry to show Marianne had made her laugh. He was so delighted to find them, like a little boy, he made her heart tighten.) Then Bog showed her how to make shortbread-like his father had taught him. They made chocolate crinkles and gingerbread people to round out their cookie baking. It wasn’t long before the entire kitchen smelled of baked vanilla, sugar, and chocolate. 

While they waited for the cookies to bake, and Dean Martin sang about coming home for Christmas, Marianne cleared off another counter to turn into their decorating area. Bog made coffee while he watched Marianne making homemade frosting, coloring them until she had several bowls of Christmas color frosting. 

Over the next several hours, the two of them mixed and baked cookies with Bog cleaning up behind them to cut down on their cleaning later. 

By the time they were ready to sit down and decorate cookies, Bog’s shirt was covered in flour, just as much as Marianne’s top and pants were covered in sugar. 

Bog leaned his hip against the side of the counter, sipping his second cup of coffee as they waited for the last batch of sugar cookies to cool before they began decorating. He glanced toward the window. He could see that large fluffy flakes had started to fall again. 

“You know, I think one of my favorite Christmases was the year I got a sled from my parents. It was this fantastic thing, all shiny wood and red blades, really old fashioned looking thing.” He smiled and took another sip of his coffee. “I was about eleven at the time, it was a year or more before my Dad passed away. He took me out and we played in the snow all day that Christmas.” 

Marianne studied his expression. Bog was smiling, but she could see the sadness lurking behind his blue gaze. “We went out sledding and stayed out until out clothing was soaked through with snow and it was dark. We built a snowman and had a snowball fight with the neighbor kids.” Bog chuckled. “My Da was dangerous with a snowball…” 

Marianne smiled as she moved the cookies from the pan to some plates for decorating, setting the pans aside in one of the many kitchen sinks before sitting down on a stool by the counter. 

“I remember doing snow angels with my mother. My father would complain when we would come back covered in snow because we would track snow into the castle, but he was always laughing. My mother would give my father these huge hugs covering my father in snow and then Dawn and I would join in and Daddy would groan about how the monarchy was falling....” She laughed softly at the memory. 

Bog ran his tongue over his bottom lip before he asked. “Wanna build a snowman after we finish with the cookies? It’s been snowing pretty steadily for the last hour; we’ll probably have some really good snow work with.” 

Marianne glanced up, their eyes meeting. “Yes, yes I would…” she said softly before she looked down at her cookies, then back to him. “Maybe we can make snow angels too?” 

Bog laughed. “Well mine may look a bit more like snow scarecrows, but sure.” 

Marianne giggled. “It's a date…” She blinked, then quickly covered herself by adding. “...but now...you ready to make these sugar cookies beautiful?” she asked softly, holding up a Christmas tree-shaped sugar cookie and making it dance back and forth in her hand. 

Bog walked over and pulled a stool out that sat under the cabinet next to her. 

He laced his fingers together and stretched his long arms out, the fingers cracking audibly in the huge kitchen. “Let’s make some art shall we?” 

Marianne handed him a cookie. “Yes, let’s see if you’re as good an artist as you are a writer.” 

Bog chuckled. “Uh oh, I might disappoint princess.” 

“I doubt that.” Marianne laughed as they started decorating cookies. 

* 

They worked diligently, working their way through the sugar and gingerbread cookies. Marianne was careful, putting effort into making each cookie a small, edible masterpiece while Bog decorated his cookies with less precision and more focus on making the cookies cute or funny. 

Marianne wrinkled her nose ,looking over at Bog as he decorated some of the “people” shaped gingerbread cookies to look like they were wearing holly trimmed thongs. 

“What are you doing?” Marianne asked with a giggle. 

Bog held one of his cookies up proudly. “California ginger person.” 

Marianne laughed, reaching up to rub at her cheek with her knuckle. “California ginger people wear holly berry thongs?” 

Bog grinned at her, noticing she had wiped some blue frosting across her cheek. “Have you ever been to California?” 

He reached over at the same time and wiped the frosting off her cheek with his thumb before popping his thumb in his mouth. Marianne went still when he touched her. His thumb brushed softly against her skin, but at the same time his touched burned. Watching him pop his frosting covered thumb into his mouth sent ripples of intense heat through her body. 

He smiled at her. “Sorry, you had frosting on your cheek.” 

“Did I?” Marianne asked before she reached over, dipping her finger into a bowl of green frosting only to reach up and run the frosting over his nose. 

“I think you have frosting on your nose.” Marianne smirked. 

Bog chuckled. “I think I do.” 

Marianne reached up and gently wiped the frosting from his nose before sticking her finger in her mouth with a smirk. 

Bog chuckled reaching over and dipping his finger in the red frosting reaching over to trace her lips with the frosting. “There you go,” he said with a smile. 

Marianne giggled rubbing her frosting covered lips together before she smiled at him, some of the frosting on her teeth. “I think this is a great new look. It’ll be all the rage this Christmas.” 

Bog laughed. “It’s quite becoming.” He playfully reached over and ran his fingers over her lips smearing the frosting down along her chin. 

Marianne giggled wrinkling her nose and asked. “So, you going to wipe it off?” 

Bog gazed at her, his finger still resting on the end of her chin. He stroked his finger along her chin, then very slowly guided her face closer. 

Marianne leaned toward him, her eyes locked with his eyes, letting Bog guide her closer. 

Bog wasn’t sure what he was doing or why, but...he needed to stop himself, this couldn’t happen, it wasn’t proper. Not that he didn’t want to kiss her, but...it would be nice to kiss her...but...He released her chin and started to pull away, but Marianne reached out for him and caught his face in her hands. 

Bog went still. 

She pulled him to her slowly, her eyes locked with his and pressed her frosting covered lips to his lips. Bog stared down at her, his gaze confused, wary, but he reached out with one hand and stroked his fingers gently through her short hair over her ear then down along her throat in a tender caress. 

Marianne kept her lips pressed to his, his beard tickling her for another beat or two, rubbing her frosting covered lips against his mouth before she pulled back, her cheeks red. The kiss was probably the bravest, stupidest thing she had even done, but she found that she wasn’t sorry, not in the least. “Uhm...maybe we should finish up here…” 

Bog nodded blushing too, his lips covered in red frosting. “Uh...yeah…it’s getting late...I mean if you still want to go build a snowman that is.” 

Marianne grinned at him, frosting still on her face. “I would love that.” 

* 

One of the castle kitchen staff, a young woman named Taylor, had just begun to step into the kitchen to make some hot coco for the king when she saw the eldest princess and the writer who was following her around for his book, kiss. The young woman gasped, barely covering her mouth in time to stop herself from making a sound. She took two quick steps backwards, her back slamming into what felt like a wall. 

Taylor turned around, her eyes wide to see Brutus, Princess Marianne’s bodyguard standing there like a statue. She hadn’t even seen him or heard him when she came in! 

He smiled at her and held a finger up to his lips before he spoke. “This isn’t to leave this room. Do you understand?” 

Taylor’s eyes were huge and round like saucers as she nodded and whispered, her voice trembling. “Yes, yes sir.” 

Brutus nodded. “I would hate to see you lose your position.” 

Taylor nodded. “No sir...I mean, yes sir.” 

He smiled again. “Why don’t you come back in say, a minute or two. I’m sure the King is fine waiting.” 

Taylor nodded and hurried off. 

Brutus smiled and looked into the kitchen before turning away. 

* 

Bog held the door open for Marianne who hurried outside, a purple knit cap pulled down low on her head, the fluffy white pom-pom on its top bouncing as she rushed out into the snow, her purple parka coat and purple boots making her look like a ski bunny. Neither one of them had said anything about the kiss, both of them choosing to ignore it...or something. Bog wasn’t sure, but if she wasn’t going to say anything, then neither was he. 

Bog chuckled, following her. He hadn’t put on a hat, not that he had one with him, but he had put on gloves. He lit up a cigarette as he followed Marianne around the castle. She had told him she knew the perfect place for a snowman. 

She led him to the far right side of the castle past the frozen gardens. Bog looked up as they walked. The late afternoon sun made the sky, which was mostly grey and white with fluffy flakes of snow, rosy with hints of pink mixed in. 

Marianne stopped and turned, throwing her arms out. “Tada!!” 

Bog looked around. The princess had stopped to stand at the bottom of a hill, a hill perfect for sledding, if they had a sled. The hillside was also a great location for a snowman and snow angels. There was a long expanse of clean, beautiful untouched snow with a few pine trees standing at the top of the hill. Bog thought it was a really nice location that was away from the main road that led up to the castle, giving the illusion of privacy. 

Marianne picked up some snow and started to ball it up in her hands. “So, is this a great spot for a snowman?” 

Bog nodded, grinning around his cigarette which he held between his teeth for a moment as he reached down to pick up some snow too. 

“It is,” he replied as he started to pack the snow in his hand when suddenly he was hit across the face with a snowball, knocking his cigarette out of his mouth. 

Bog gasped at the sudden icy cold on his face, his cigarette gone and snow stuck in his beard. He heard the sounds of Princess Marianne giggling. 

He turned to narrow his eyes at her. “Oh, you think that’s funny do you?” 

Marianne’s eyes were bright and playful. “I told you that you should stop smoking.” 

Bog grinned. “You did. What if I told you that princesses shouldn’t declare wars they can’t win.” 

“I would tell you that you are presumptuous to assume that I won’t win.” Marianne grinned wickedly at him, grabbing up some more snow. She started to run, but Bog threw his snowball catching her in the shoulder. Marianne squealed and tossed her half-formed snowball only to miss Bog as he dove out of the way, stumbling a few steps. He almost lost his balance ,but managed to keep his feet. Bog grabbed up more snow and threw, the ball flying through the air but missing Marianne. She laughed and then threw another snowball catching Bog in the middle of the chest. 

Bog laughed and said loudly. “This is war!! The Kingdom of...the Kings declares war on the House of Summerfield!” 

“The House of Summerfield says...Na-na-na!!” She stuck her thumbs in her ears and wiggled her gloved fingers at him. 

Bog laughed and threw another snowball, catching Marianne in the stomach. She squeaked and quickly gathered up more snow. 

Over the next ten minutes, the two of them chased each other across the hillside throwing snowballs at one another. Bog hit her once in the head, nearly knocking off her hat while Marianne got him once in the crotch, his quick reaction the only thing saving him as he dropped his hands down in time. 

Bog grinned, his beard and hair icy with snow. Marianne, her cheeks rosy red, stood only a few inches from him, both of them covered in snow, both armed with snowballs. 

“Do you surrender?” she asked holding her snowball up threateningly. 

Bog grinned at her. His nose was red with the cold as were his cheeks. “A King never surrenders Princess.” 

Marianne narrowed her eyes at him. Before Bog could react, Marianne charged him, hitting him right in the chest ,wrapping her arms around him and knocked him off his feet. Bog yelped and fell backwards. He landed on his back, knocking the air out of him though not painfully; the snow was too thick and soft for that. Still, the fall startled him. 

Marianne hadn’t meant to knock him off his feet. When Bog landed on the ground she pushed herself up. “Oh my gosh Bog, are you all right?” She scooted up to look him in the face, pulling her gloves off with her teeth to grasp his face in her hands. “Bog, oh Bog please say you’re all right!” 

Bog blinked looking stunned. Marianne began to panic. “Bog, oh god. Bog I’m so sorry…” 

She held his face between her hands, her heart thudded hard in her chest she started to take a breath to yell for help when Bog smashed a snowball against the side of her face. 

Marianne yelped in surprise as Bog laughed. “I win!” 

Marianne shrieked. “Some of it went down my collar!!” 

Marianne snarled, but she was giggling too as she wiped snow from her face. “You jerk!” 

Bog was laughing too much to listen to her, but then Marianne grabbed a handful of snow, with her other hand she grabbed his henley and pulled it down trying to shove snow down his front. Bog yelled and laughed, grabbing at her hands and yanked her forward. Marianne fell forward, her chest hitting his chest, her face inches from Bog’s face. They stared at each other… 

Marianne’s eyes moved to his lips, then back to his heavenly blue eyes. 

Bog didn’t move, looked down at her lips, then back to her large brown eyes. Marianne inched closer. He could feel the warmth of her breath, the barest brush of her lips, His heartbeat filled his ears, his mouth parted just slightly… 

Bog’s beard tickled her chin, she could feel his lips, the brush of softness… 

“MARIANNE!! BOG!!” Dawn’s voice rang out. 

Marianne threw herself off of Bog in a panic. 

Bog sat up as Dawn came running around the side of the castle with Sunny in tow. “There you are!! Brutus said you went for a walk and he didn't know when you would be back! He said I shouldn’t go looking, but here you are!! The tree’s here!! The family tree for the front room is finally here!!!” Dawn exclaimed with excitement. 

Bog looked over at Marianne who smiled and waved at her sister. 

“We’ll be right there!” she called back. 

Dawn waved back. “I’ll get Sunny and Brutus to help me bring down the decorations!! Then we can have hot chocolate and decorate the tree after dinner!!” Dawn giggled happily before she turned to leave. Sunny stood frowning for a moment, looking between Bog and Marianne though his gaze lingered on Bog, looking a little confused before he turned to follow the youngest princess. 

Bog hurriedly got to his feet and put his hand out to Marianne who took it and let Bog pull her up. 

“Guess it’s time to go in,” he said softly. 

Marianne nodded smiling. “I had a lot of fun.” 

Bog smiled back at her, still holding her hand. “I did too.” 

Marianne continued to hold his hand looking down at the snow covering her boots. “So, ah…” 

Bog gave her hand a gentle squeeze before finally releasing it. “We should go inside and get warmed up. I'm interested to see your tree.” 

Marianne began to walk. “Will you help decorate?” she asked. 

Bog fell into step beside her shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. “You sure you want me to? I’m not family.” 

Marianne smiled gently. “Yes Bog. I would like you to.” 

“Then it will be an honor,” Bog said, gazing at her with affection clear in his eyes. 

They headed around to the front of the castle, neither of them noticing Roland. 

Roland had been walking around the side of the castle a few minutes before Dawn showed up, looking for Marianne. He had been let in by one of the staff, a young woman who Roland had charmed into a fit of giggles. He had seen Marianne and Bog about to kiss, but when Dawn had called out he had ducked behind a tree and hidden. Was Marianne falling for that...that...peasant? That writer? He was going to have to do something about him. 

Roland narrowed his eyes and had started to make his way back up to the front of the castle, thinking to try and get himself invited inside when he was suddenly grabbed by his collar from behind. 

“And what the fuck are you doing on the castle grounds?” Brutus growled. 

Roland turned around. “Oh Brutus. Hello, I’m here to see Princess Marianne.” 

Brutus snarled. “Well you ain’t invited or I would have known about it, which invites the question: why are you here and how did you get in?” 

Roland grinned, his charm falling flat on Brutus, who hissed. “Out you go.” 

Roland twisted in Brutus’s grip. “Oh come on now, my big, coarse friend. You know Marianne would want to see me!” 

Brutus chuckled. “She wants to see you about as much as she wants to see the devil himself.” 

Brutus half-dragged half-walked Roland to the gate. “You can’t do this, you buffoon. I’m nobility!” 

“I can and I will. You may be nobility, but you ain’t wanted here.” Brutus snarled. “How’s that for a coarse buffoon?” 

“I’ll see you lose your position for this!!” Roland yelled. 

Brutus chuckled. “Yeah, you go ahead and try. Good night, Lord Roland.” Brutus shoved the blonde man out of the gate and slammed it shut. He looked at the guards. “He comes anywhere near these gates, you have permission to poke him in the ass with your spears, got it?” 

The two guards nodded and responded with: “Yes sir” in unison. 

Brutus smiled at Roland before he turned and headed back toward the castle to find out who had let Roland in. 

Roland glared hatefully at Brutus’ back, then at the guards before he turned and started to make his way down the road to where he had parked his car. 

* 

Bog and Marianne parted at the door, slipping off to their respective rooms to shower and change into warm, dry clothing. Bog, wearing jeans and a button-down blue shirt over a grey t-shirt, and his boots, came down the stairs only now craving a cigarette when he heard Marianne call out. “Wait for me.” 

Bog turned to see Marianne in a pair of black and white plaid leggings and a loose, heavy black sweater with a cowl neck with a pair of black ballet flats. She hadn’t put on any makeup and her short brown hair looked wild. Bog felt his breath taken away; he had never seen her look more beautiful. 

She smiled and bit her bottom lip, a blush on her cheeks. “Follow me.” 

Bog nodded without a word, the thought of her lips on his was still too fresh in his mind. He tried his best not to look at her too much. His feelings were a mess of conflicting thoughts, jumping between nervous apprehension to excitment and pleasure. 

Marianne guided him down the hall he was sure he had been in before, but didn’t remember. 

Bog’s eyes widened when he entered the room and saw the “family” Christmas tree which was at least eight-foot tall, besides the fact that the front room was actually a family room. But unlike the family room Bog grew up with, this room was huge and richly decorated in beige and warm browns. The room was surprisingly cozy with a large white marble fireplace with a roaring fire, the mantel of which was decorated with framed photographs, family photographs, as well as holly, candles, and little classic, tasteful Santa Claus and Snowmen figurines. 

The King was already in the room, lounging in a large soft-looking armchair wearing simple black slacks and a Christmas sweater, an actual ugly Christmas sweater. Bog did his best to school his features, but it was difficult. Dawn, dressed in Christmas themed red and white leggings and a bright red slouchy sweater, wearing only Christmas socks on her feet, was sitting on the couch with Sunny who wasn’t wearing a suit. He had opted for slacks and a simple black dress shirt with red suspenders looking happy as Dawn chatted with him--and maybe a little uncomfortable, Bog noted. Sunny glanced at Bog and gave his brother a smile before turning his attention back to Dawn. Bog could tell he was smitten with her and the attention the young princess was giving him. 

Standing near the doorway with his hands behind his back was Brutus, in his regular suit. 

Dagda stood up, his arms out. “Marianne!” 

Marianne hurried over and into her father’s arms, hugging him tightly. “Hi Daddy!” 

Dagda hugged his daughter tightly. “I see you were baking today.” 

Marianne giggled softly, stepping back to smile at her father. “You didn’t eat everything did you?” 

Dagda laughed. (Bog found it nice, if a bit strange to see a monarch in a horrible Christmas sweater laughing, but he liked it. He liked that the king had no problem being a father as well as a monarch.) “I didn’t, though I was sorely tempted to. Those thumbprint cookies were wonderful. You’ve never made them before have you?” 

Marianne smiled and gestured toward Bog. “Actually Bog made them.” 

Dagda released his daughter to turn his attention to Bog. Bog wasn’t sure what to do--bow? Not to bow? He decided to go with something in between, a sort of half bow. “Sire,” he said softly. 

Dagda laughed. “Please. The King is off the clock at the moment, call me Dagda, and I wasn’t informed that you were a writer and baker?” Dagda walked over and took Bog’s hand giving it a good firm shake. “I really enjoyed those cookies.” 

Bog blushed, returning the king’s handshake. “My mother taught me sire...I mean Dagda. Both my mother and father liked to cook.” 

Dagda grinned. “Good skill to have in a young man. Now…” He released Bog’s hand to turn to their small group. “Who would like some hot chocolate while we decorate the tree?” 

Dawn gasped. “With whipped cream and sprinkles?” 

“Would your father make it any other way?” Dagda laughed. “You kids get started. Brutus and I can make the hot cocoa. Come along Brutus.” 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Brutus smiled at Bog and hurried after his king. 

Bog stared at Marianne. “The king makes hot cocoa?” 

Marianne laughed with a nod. “He does. It's the only thing he’s capable of making in the kitchen without there being a fire and he enjoys it. He makes it from scratch, melting chocolate and everything. You’ll love it. So…” She pressed her lips together. “Want to help me with the lights?” 

Bog nodded. “Sure do.” 

Marianne laughed and headed over the tree where Dawn, with Sunny beside her (the two of them stealing glances and touches, Bog noticed) were unboxing the ornaments. 

Dawn grinned at Bog. “It’ll be nice to have someone tall enough to put the star on the tree without a ladder.” 

Bog laughed and bowed in Dawn’s direction. “Glad I can be of such an invaluable service.” 

Dawn grinned at him. “Keep it up, we might have to knight you.” 

Bog grinned. “I would be honored.” 

Dawn giggled softly, the sound like little bells. 

* 

Over the next couple of hours, their small group decorated the trees. Bog was impressed to find that most of the ornaments were handmade by the princesses and their mother. Bog listened with pleasure as the sisters talked about past Christmases with their father, adding stories from when the girls were little. Sunny related his first Christmas as part of Bog’s family with Bog adding to the story here and there. 

It was overall a very pleasant evening that not only gave Bog another private glimpse into Marianne the person, but a view of the entire royal family as a happy, close-knit family, something that Roland had tried to harm. 

That made Bog angry. 

After King Dagda had excused himself and Sunny had offered to escort the yawning Princess Dawn to her room, Bog watched Marianne where she sat in front of the fire. She looked beautiful with the dying firelight dancing across her features. He wondered, not for the first time that day, what it would be like to really kiss her. He frowned, quickly dismissing those thoughts. What had happened in the kitchen had just been a moment of foolishness, the same as when they had been playing in the snow...just the heat of the moment. 

Bog sighed rubbing the back of his neck. “I think I’ll step out for a cigarette,” he muttered. 

Marianne turned to glance over her shoulder at him before she stood. “I’ll come with you.” 

Bog looked surprised, but didn’t say a word. Instead he simply nodded and headed off to get his coat. 

* 

Outside the air had turned colder, brisker. The snow was still falling, but the flakes were now tinier, lacking the large fluffiness that had fallen that afternoon. 

Bog stepped away from the door and lit up his cigarette. He took a deep drag, glancing at Marianne who was standing beside him. “That was nice tonight. You have a nice family.” 

Marianne smiled and nodded her hands buried in the pockets of her coat. “Yeah, we do. I’m glad you were able to decorate the tree with us,” Marianne said in a soft tone, her lips curled into a smile. 

Bog blushed, blowing out a line of smoke before he said. “I appreciate you including me.” 

They were both quiet for a moment, gazing out at the snowy night lit up with twinkling Christmas lights that decorated the outside of the castle. 

Bog swallowed then said softly. “I’m sorry about the kiss…” 

Marianne glanced over at him, her cheeks red. “Don’t be, I kissed you.” 

“But I could have...stopped it. You are in a bad place right now with what Roland has been doing to you in the public eye and ….” 

Marianne shook her head. “No…” 

Bog frowned at her, but Marianne smiled at him. “I like you Bog. I mean, I know we’ve only known each other for a couple of days, but…I do like you.” 

Bog smiled. “I like you too princess, but maybe we should just pretend it didn’t happen?” 

Marianne’s features clouded over and Bog realized he might have just said the wrong thing. He didn't want to pretend he hadn’t kissed her, or that he wouldn’t have kissed her again in the snow, but… 

He wasn’t for her. She deserved something, someone better...a proper knight in shining armor, not an ugly writer with a smoking habit. 

Marianne stared at him for a long moment, her expression going from hurt to hard. “If that’s what you want Mr. King,” she said her voice flat. “I have an appearance tomorrow for the opening of the local Christmas village. Please dress presentably.” 

With that Marianne turned on her heel and walked inside. 

Bog sighed, feeling crushed. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, he just… 

“You’re a fucking asshole, Bog King,” Bog muttered as he put out his cigarette and lit another. 

* 

Marianne rushed to her room upset, upset with Bog, but mostly upset with herself. How could she have been so stupid! At least Bog wasn’t like Roland, at least he told her flat out he wasn’t interested in her. 

When she arrived at her room, Marianne flopped down on her bed with a groan. 

She had listened to her heart, not like with Roland. With Roland her heart had been telling her something was wrong, but she had blindly followed her mind, her eyes, and the fairy tale because Roland had been the dream, a lord, handsome, charming... 

Bog was different… 

But… 

Marianne sighed, wiping angrily at her tears that started to leak slowly from the corners of her eyes. 

* 

The next couple of days were rough. 

Marianne remained stony and kept a cold distance from Bog. The princess’ demeanor was clear enough that everyone noticed and even Brutus was giving Bog quizzical looks. 

Bog felt defeated, like a world-class jerk and he wasn’t sure how to fix it, but he did one thing that he hoped was right. He went into town to get himself some nicotine gum and patches. Maybe he didn’t deserve someone as kind and intelligent and wonderful as Princess Marianne, but he could still try to make himself a better man. 

On the upside, Bog noticed the Sunny and Dawn were spending more time together. He had caught them whispering several times, and once he had found them holding hands. At least someone was happy. 

Bog sighed. He had one more week in Lidvessa, then he would be heading home and Marianne wouldn’t have to look at him again. 

On the other negative side of things, Roland was back at it again. The picture of Bog and Marianne that had appeared in all the papers and entertainment websites speculating as to the relationship of the princess and her mystery man was soon replaced by Roland beefing up his appearance on television, giving out supposedly new dirty little secrets about the monarchy and, in particular, Princess Marianne. 

* 

Marianne sat in her room while the makeup artist worked on her face. The dress she was going to wear to the Christmas play at the orphanage was hanging on a hanger near her window. The outfit was a full red skirt with Christmas bow at the waist and a fuzzy white sweater with a sweetheart neckline. She was going to be wearing a simple snowflake necklace and matching earrings. The dress was a compliment to her sister, who would be wearing a green skirt. 

There wouldn't be a big journalistic presence at the orphanage, but there would be at least a handful of photographers there for pictures. 

Dawn was sitting on another stool that had been brought into Marianne’s room so that the sisters could get ready together, her hair being curled and braided with bright holiday colored ribbons. 

Dawn glanced over at her sister, catching Marianne’s eyes in the mirror. 

“So, you want to talk about it?” 

Marianne frowned at her sister’s reflection. “Talk about what?” 

Dawn narrowed her eyes. “What is going on between you and Bog? You seemed to be getting along and now…” Dawn made a face. 

Marianne frowned. “It's...complicated.” 

“Is it?” Dawn asked. “I thought you liked him? You guys seemed to be getting cozy there while we were decorating the tree, then the next day it was like...well, it was like you were talking to Roland.” 

“I do.” Marianne said. “I do…like him...” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t like the comparison to how she treated Roland because Roland was a complete and scandalous jackass, but Dawn rolled her eyes. “You know? Whatever it is, you should fix it. You’re a princess who will be Queen and if you like him, then don’t let anything silly get in the way of that.” 

The hairdresser, a young man with snow-white hair and a cheerful face nodded. “Amen sister.” 

Dawn giggled. “Thank you Ian.” 

Marianne frowned, biting her lip until her makeup artist hissed. “Stop that, you’re messing up the lipstick.” Never interrupt an artist, the princess thought and stopped herself from smirking. 

“Sorry,” Marianne said, then looked back at her sister’s reflection. “What should I do?” 

Dawn smiled. “Someone very wise told me that you should simply tell him how you feel…that’s why I told Sunny and now we are going to start dating.” Dawn looked very pleased with herself. “I don’t feel...wait, what? You and Sunny?” Marianne began, but Dawn gave her an eyeroll. “Please, I'm your sister. I know you better than anyone. You don’t have to say anything out loud or to me, but I can tell how you feel about him. Don’t waste time being silly...just tell him how you feel.” She blushed. “And yes, Sunny and I are dating now.” 

Marianne grinned. “Well, I approve.” 

Dawn beamed at her. “Thank you, I do too.” 

Marianne was quiet for a moment before she asked. “What if Bog doesn’t…” Marianne trailed off and Dawn once more made the same annoyed face. 

“Please, anyone can see that Bog likes you. The poor guy likes you a lot. So talk to him.” 

Marianne pressed her lips together until her makeup artist glared at her and she stopped. “You think it's that simple?” 

Dawn nodded. “Yes. You should take him out for drinks after the show, or maybe you both could go for a walk, or have hot chocolate in the kitchen. Did you know he wasn’t smoking anymore, or at least trying not to?” 

“He is?” Marianne asked and Dawn nodded. 

Marianne smiled a little. “I didn't know.” 

Dawn looked smug. “Now, if you were to ask my opinion, I would say he might be doing it because of someone.” The blonde princess shrugged. 

Marianne blushed, wondering if maybe she was being difficult. Maybe she should talk to him. 

* 

The drive to St. Nicholas was tense, but not as tense as the last few days had been. Bog kept looking over at Marianne, biting his lip and chewing his nicotine gum trying to decide what he should do. He wanted to tell her he was sorry for what he said, wanted to tell her that he liked her--a great deal--and that if she would let him he would kiss her again. 

But he said nothing, turning his gaze down to his hands in his lap. 

Marianne sat awkwardly, not knowing what she should do or say. She noticed the way Bog was trying to make himself small and unobtrusive so that she wouldn’t be discomfited by him being in the backseat with her. She gazed at him from the side. He was wearing a black button-down shirt--still no tie--but he had a blazer on, one that Sunny had gotten for him, a dark blue with a very light pattern to it that looked like fleur de lis. Marianne thought Bog looked dashing. 

Bog wanted to tell Marianne how lovely she looked, but he wasn’t sure she would appreciate his compliment. Instead, he focused on quietly chewing the nicotine gum in his mouth to curb his desire for a cigarette, which at the moment he craved. 

When they arrived at the orphanage, several children waited outside for the princesses to escort them inside, along with Miss Wagner. 

Bog smiled to see the same little girl with the ribbons in her hair, tonight wearing a green and white dress with full ruffled skirts and red ribbons at the collar along with little red patent leather shoes. When she saw Bog get out of the car, she raced over to him and threw her arms around his legs hugging him tightly. 

“BOG! YOU CAME BACK!!” The little girl laughed happily. “I knew you would. You said you would and I knew you would!” 

Bog laughed and pulled the little girl up, setting her on his hip. “I said I would Grace. I’m looking forward to it.” 

Grace’s brown eyes became huge. “You remembered my name!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged Bog tightly. “I love you Bog!” 

Bog chuckled. “I love you too Grace.” He gave her a peck on the cheek that made her giggle and make a face. “Eww!! Tickles!!” She grabbed his face in her hands to make him look at her. “Did you marry Princess Marianne yet?” 

Bog paled, glancing toward Marianne who was talking to the little boy who had come out with Grace and was handing the princess a bouquet of poinsettias, but Marianne hadn’t heard; neither had Dawn or Sunny, but it was clear from the smirk on Brutus’s face he had heard the little girl. 

“Well Grace, it's complicated…” Bog said as he carried her toward the orphanage. 

Grace frowned. “That’s what all adults say, but it’s not if you love her. You should marry her. Maybe Princess Marianne will ask you? It’s okay for a girl to ask a boy, did you know that? I asked Bobby to marry me and he said ‘yes.’” 

Bog chuckled. “Oh he did, did he? Maybe I better talk to this Bobby.” 

Grace giggled and blushed, then asked. “Are you chewing gum? Can I have some?” 

Bog laughed. “I am. It's to help me quit smoking so I can't share it--it's a special gum.” 

Grace smiled. “That’s good that you want to stop smoking.” She gave him a kiss on his cheek, giggling as his beard tickled her. 

Bog smiled and set her on her feet once they were inside. “Thank you Grace.” 

Grace smiled brightly. “I better go. I’m really glad you came. I’m going to sing a song.” 

Bog grinned and brushed a finger along her dark cheek. “I’ll look forward to it.” 

She giggled and ran off, turning around once to wave at him. 

* 

Marianne had watched Bog from the corner of her eye, at the way Grace had run up to him, hugging his legs and the way Bog picked her up and carried her inside talking to her. It was the sweetest thing she had ever seen. Her heart twisted in her chest. Roland had never been good with the children, and the children had never taken to Roland, but Bog...he was a natural. She sighed, then barely stopped herself from yelping when she felt an elbow in her side. Dawn gave her sister a pointed look, raising her eyebrows at her sister. 

Marianne sighed and bit her bottom lip. Dawn was right; she needed to talk to Bog again. She was thinking she might say something once they were seated when her eyes widened in horror. 

Talking and laughing with a few of the other noble guests was Roland! 

Roland, as if sensing eyes on him, turned and locked eyes with Marianne. He grinned at her and winked. 

Marianne’s hands around her bouquet tightened. 

* 

A few minutes later they were all seated in the small theater that was part of the orphanage. The entire theater was decorated for the season with wreaths and Christmas lights. The royal princesses were in the front and center; Marianne had Bog on her right while Dawn had Sunny on her left, and Brutus sat behind the princesses, but Roland, along with a handful of other nobles were seated in front of the princesses. Bog snarled to himself when he saw Roland take a seat directly in front of Marianne. 

Roland turned around to Marianne, grinning. “Hello Buttercup.” 

Marianne said in an even tone, “You will refer to me as Princess or Your Highness.” 

Roland grinned. “Sorry, Princess Marianne. You look gorgeous tonight. The dress really shows off how much weight you’ve lost, no more of that baby fat you were carrying while we were together.” 

Marianne narrowed her eyes at him, but instead of saying anything back to him, she chose to remain quiet. Her ears felt as if they were on fire with her humiliation and rage. 

Bog, on the other hand, was steaming with building rage. How dare he! Bog knew there were photographers here, members of the press--not many--but enough that if Marianne reacted to Roland, the news would be all over the internet in a matter of hours...or perhaps minutes. He knew what Roland was doing; he was here to make Marianne look bad and Bog wasn’t going to allow it. 

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he would be damned it this asshole, this bampot shite brained git was going to hurt Marianne and her reputation anymore. The lights dimmed and the curtains on the stage were pulled back as the children’s Christmas play began. Roland turned around, but not before he gave Bog a narrow-eyed look. 

Bog had never hated anyone more than he did Lord Roland Knight at this moment. 

* 

Grace was center stage singing “Where are you Christmas?” in her sweet, seven-year-old voice. Bog smiled, listening to her when Marianne reached out and laid her hand on his knee. Bog nearly jumped a foot in surprise, but he kept himself in his seat, barely. 

He looked over at the princess to see Marianne smile at him. She leaned over and Bog leaned toward her as Marianne brought her lips to his ear. “Can we talk tonight?” 

Bog nodded and whispered back, his lips brushing Marianne’s ear. “I would like that.” 

Marianne smiled brightly at him, the smile that Bog loved, and she squeezed his knee again when Roland turned around, his eyes immediately locking on to where Marianne’s hand rested on Bog’s knee. 

“You know…” His voice dripped with sarcasm and disgust, cutting loudly enough through Grace’s performance that most everyone in the small theater could hear him. 

“....even though you have debased yourself with a peasant, you might be able to earn back your reputation if you came back to me. My forgiveness of your sins will go a long way to the public forgiving you after all you’ve done...I mean, leaving me at the altar, associating with a peasant and an American...I understand you were heartbroken because of your poor decision to leave me but...HIM?” Roland gestured at Bog. “You have fallen as low as you can Princess...But I am a magnanimous man. I can and will forgive you because I understand that you need the steadying hand of a good man to help you.” 

Bog felt Marianne stiffen beside him and her hand on his knee tightened. Bog stared back at Roland. He could hear his mother in his head telling him not to let his temper get in the way, not to let his temper rule him, but he could also hear his father saying. “Son, don’t let anyone insult the woman you love.” 

As Bog felt his body start to move while his brain was still telling him what a bad idea this was, he momentarily thought that he was finally going to get to see those dungeons Marianne had mentioned and he wondered if they would let him send for his typewriter so he could write his book from his cell… 

Bog stood up at the same time snarling and his Scottish came out (as it always did when he was angry, every insult or foul word his father had ever used coming quickly to Bog’s tongue.) 

“Shut ye geggie you fucking Nyaff roaster! No one insults the Princess like that! Especially not a lying, cheating, two-faced piece of shit like you!” 

Bog grabbed Roland by the arm, hauling him to his feet and over the seat while with his other hand he belted Roland in the face, letting go of him as Roland went flying backward over another row of seats to land on his ass in front of the stage, his nose bleeding. 

Someone screamed; it might have been Roland. 

The flash of cameras became an explosion of lights. 

Bog was ready to climb over the seats and pound Lord Roland Knight in his stupid smug face. He didn’t care if he never left the dungeon again, no one tried to hurt Marianne like that! He started to climb over the seats to get at Roland when a hand on his arm stopped him. 

* 

Marianne was completely humiliated by what Roland was saying, and angry, so angry that she wanted to hurt Roland, she wanted to punch him in his smug, self-serving, pompous face when Bog suddenly stood up and said some things that did not sound complimentary at Roland before grabbing him and punching Roland in the face!! 

Marianne had never felt that she needed rescuing, but Bog defending her and hitting Roland had to be the most heroic, stupid, and beautiful thing anyone had ever done for her. 

Just as Bog started to go after Roland, Marianne grabbed his arm. He turned around looking confused, his blue eyes wide and beautiful… 

Marianne reached up and cupped his face, her fingers sliding into his beard. She didn’t care who saw her as she pulled Bog down and kissed him, full on the mouth as the cameras flashed away. 

Bog looked so surprised that it was almost comical, but his hands finally went to rest on her hips, returning her kiss fully. The world fell away as they kissed each other, gently. 

Marianne pulled back, still holding his face and giggled. “Is that gum in your mouth?” 

Bog grinned at her. “I quit smoking.” 

Marianne giggled. “Good.” 

She kissed him again.


	4. Ice Skates

“KING DEFENDS PRINCESS!” 

Bog cringed when he saw the headline on Sunny’s phone. 

After the disruption of the show last night Bog had been hauled off to jail. Apparently there had been a police presence at the orphanage, (which made sense with the princesses being there) who had jumped on Bog a couple of seconds after Marianne had stepped back from kissing him. They had at least had the good grace to wait until they were done kissing. 

The local jail wasn’t that bad actually, Bog thought with a clinical eye. While he as being hauled away (with Marianne having a fit behind him), several people had yelled out to him, cheering him for what he had done defending the princess. 

The jail, where Bog had spent several hours last night going through the paperwork and bail to get him out, had been a nice little place. It made the writer think of jails that one would sometimes see in old westerns with one or two cells, and a sleepy officer on duty because there wasn’t a lot of crime except for a few drunks. 

Roland didn’t pursue charges, which was helpful, but made Bog wonder if the jerk had something up his sleeve. That was something to worry about later. 

By the time they got back to the castle, it was late and he and Marianne didn’t get a chance to talk again. Hopefully, he would get to speak with her today. 

Sunny moved his phone from where he had been holding it in front of Bog’s face. “I'm not sure about the publicity fallout yet, but from the comments I’ve been reading all morning, you have several fans. A lot of people are happy to see Roland get what was coming to him and a lot of people were excited to see the Crown Princess with someone new, especially someone not with a royal or noble background. You appeal to the common people,” Sunny summed up. 

Bog pulled up the zipper on his jeans and grabbed a dark brown sweater from his closet and pulled it over his head while he asked. “Has Marianne seen it?” 

Sunny walked over and sat on the side of Bog’s bed while his brother got dressed. “I don’t think so.” 

“You think she’ll be angry?” Bog turned around. His dark hair was sticking up in all directions, and his beard was a mess as well. Sunny had to press his lips together to stop himself from laughing. 

“After the way she kissed you in front of everyone? No, I doubt she’ll be angry...her father…” Sunny shrugged. “Could go either way. I think he secretly hoped that the two of them would make up. On paper, Lord Roland and Princess Marianne are a good match, but he also loves his daughters very much. So…” Sunny gave Bog a thin-lipped smile with another shrug. 

Bog sighed and rubbed the back of his neck before turning to pick up a brush from the vanity in the room and dragged it through his hair. 

“As long as I don’t end up in a dungeon,” Bog muttered. 

Sunny laughed, watching his brother comb his hair with amusement. “You won’t.” Sunny tilted his head at Bog and asked. “So, you going with Princess Marianne to ice skate today? I assumed you are since you’re supposed to be following her around and all.” 

Bog looked perplexed. “Ice skate?” 

Sunny nodded. “That’s what Dawn said her sister was talking about earlier this morning, that she wanted to go ice skating since the lake is open for skating now.” 

Bog lifted a brow at Sunny. “This morning? We haven’t even had breakfast yet and you’ve already seen the younger princess.” 

Sunny’s cheeks turned red. “Ah…” 

Bog held his hand up. “Don’t tell me--I don’t want to know. But...are you two...a couple?” 

Sunny’s blush became redder and ran all the way up to his ears. “I ah...I’m not sure yet.” 

Bog smirked, finishing with his hair and beard. “I’m glad. You two are cute together.” 

Sunny blushed brighter yet, looking down at his phone before he said. “I didn’t know she liked me...not like I did her and then just the other day she dragged me to the study and told me how she felt.” He looked up at his brother. “It was the best day of my life.” 

Bog grinned, walking over to flop down on the bed next to his brother and put his arm around the shorter man’s shoulders. “I’m glad. You deserve to be happy.” 

Sunny blushed brighter still, making Bog wonder if Sunny was going to catch his hair on fire. “I’m not sure what her father will think, but on the plus side, Dawn isn’t really in line for the crown unless something were to happen to her sister, god forbid,” Sunny said softly. “So if things progress…” He shrugged. “...who knows?” 

Bog hugged Sunny’s shoulders. “Well I hope everything works out for the two of you.” 

Sunny grinned lopsidedly at his brother. “I hope the same for you and Princess Marianne.” 

It was Bog’s turn to blush. “Thank you.” 

* 

Bog and Sunny came down to breakfast, meeting with the princesses in the same room as always, their father once more not in attendance as he had some matters to work out with the chef in regards to the Christmas Ball that would be in just a few days. 

Bog and Sunny hurried down to the room. They could hear the princesses talking as well as the sweet smell of breakfast. Bog’s stomach growled noticeably. 

Sunny chuckled. 

When the two men entered the room, Dawn was immediately on her feet throwing herself into Sunny’s arms. “Good morning...again.” She added with a giggle going so far as to kiss him on the cheek. 

Sunny hugged her back aware of the narrow-eyed stare of Princess Marianne, but the older sister was smiling too. Bog drew her attention when he pulled out his chair and sat down next to her. 

“Good morning, Your Highness.” 

Marianne giggled and Bog thought the sound of her giggle was the sweetest sound in the world. “Morning Bog.” Marianne smiled at him, causing Bog’s heart to skip a beat. 

She reached over and laid her hand on his hand. Bog folded her fingers into a gentle grip. “How are you this morning?” he asked and brought her hand up to kiss her knuckles. 

“I’m in a good mood. Knowing that Roland has a broken nose has done wonders for my mood.” She snickered. “I’ll probably end up with some coal in my stocking for feeling that way, but…” She shrugged. “I’ll just toss it on the fire.” 

Bog chuckled, squeezing her hand again only to have his stomach growl loudly again. 

Marianne laughed. “I’m hungry too. Besides I thought we might go ice skating since the lake opened today and a good hearty breakfast would be a good idea before we hit the ice.” 

Bog frowned, watching as Marianne began pulling the lids off of the breakfast dishes. He hadn’t ice skated since he was a kid… 

Bog blinked when he saw what was for breakfast; sausage links, baked beans, fried eggs, black pudding...it looked a lot like a traditional Scottish breakfast, like what his Da used to make… 

Marianne smiled, noticing the way Bog was looking quizzically at the food. “I asked the chef to make a Scottish breakfast…” 

Bog looked over at her and smiled. “Really?” 

She nodded as she picked up Bog’s plate and began to fill it. “I thought you might like it.” 

Bog pressed his lips together, his eyes stinging with unshed tears as he nodded. “Yeah...my father used to make breakfast like this on Saturday mornings when I was a kid…” 

Marianne heard the catch in his voice. She stopped what she was doing to turn and look with concern at him. “Bog? Did I do something wrong?” 

He shook his head. “No…” He smiled at her, reaching out to stroke her cheek with the back of his fingers. “No, you did something very right.” 

They stared at each other for a long moment, the spell broken when Dawn whispered loudly. “You two going to kiss again?” 

Marianne blinked, then glared at her sister. “Dawn!” 

Dawn smiled, looking sweet and innocent, the expression only ruined by the mischievous gleam in her pretty blue eyes. “What?” 

Marianne blushed and finished filling Bog’s plate with enough food for two people. “You are quite obnoxious for a princess, did you know that?” 

Dawn smirked, reaching out to fill her plate. “You didn’t answer the question though.” 

“And I’m not going to.” Marianne sniffed, setting Bog’s plate down in front of him before picking up her own. 

Bog poured some coffee for both Marianne and himself, glancing over at Dawn and Sunny and thought it might be a good idea to change the subject. “Are you two going ice skating with us?” 

Dawn shook her head. “Nope, I’m going to be helping Sunny with some last minute decoration details for the ball AND I have a last minute fitting for my dress.” She grinned. “It’s gorgeous!” 

Marianne chuckled, setting her plate down. “It is pretty.” 

“Don’t you need to do some fittings for yours?” Dawn asked her sister as she cut into a sausage. 

“Yes but not until later this afternoon. It's just a few minor touches. I haven’t been as busy as you lately…” She shrugged. Dawn frowned, knowing that Marianne had been lying as low as possible when Roland’s television appearances began, which meant she spent more time at home than usual. Dawn smiled at her sister. 

“Well, I think ice skating is a great idea. Especially after last night, people are going to want to see Bog.” 

Bog had a spoonful of baked beans in front of his mouth, though he nearly dropped them when Dawn said that. “What? Why?” 

Dawn smiled. “You’re the King that saved the Princess. It was all over the news today and that kiss...haven’t you seen the pictures?” 

Bog blushed red and worked his mouth a couple of times before he said, “No, no I haven’t.” 

Dawn giggled. “Anyway, everyone is going to want to see the two of you out and about once word gets out that you’re at the lake...” The youngest princess grinned. 

Marianne hissed. “Damn it. I hadn’t thought about that...I just want a nice, calm outing.” 

Sunny sipped his coffee. “I can arrange to make sure the press is kept away from the lake, or maybe at least at a distance that won’t disrupt you or anyone else's fun skating. If you would like that is.” 

Marianne nodded. “I would. It's not fair to ruin everyone's fun. Do you think we should do something else?” She looked between Bog and Sunny, but Sunny shook his head. “No, of course not. 

The press can watch from a distance. It won’t hurt them any.” 

Marianne still looked unsure but Bog reached out and laid his hand on her arm. “It’ll be fun, especially getting to watch me fall on my ass a lot.” 

Marianne laughed in response. 

* 

Bog tried to quietly chew his gum and tried not to stare, but Marianne looked adorable. She had changed clothes after breakfast, from wearing a simple pair of jeans and a heavy knit green sweater to a pair of black leggings, a little aqua-blue skirt, black turtleneck with matching aqua-blue booties. She had on a light grey dress coat over that with a light grey knit cap with a pompom on the top pulled onto her head. She looked both beautiful and cute. Bog felt like a large, hairy black stain next to her. 

The princess had brought her own ice skates with her, a pair of traditional lace-up white skates, and, after a couple of calls, a man from a local sportings good shop came to the castle to fit Bog with some ice skates that Marianne purchased for him (despite his saying he would pay for them himself, she had simply told him that he was her guest and if she wanted to buy him ice skates he couldn’t refuse her.) 

While Brutus drove, Bog looked out the window, unfamiliar with the landscape. “So where is this lake?” 

Marianne smiled as she watched the trees go by. “It’s at a park on the far side of the city. It’s named after my grandmother, Della Summerfield--Della’s Park. My grandmother was given the land by my grandfather when they married. He had thought she was going to build a small hunting lodge out there, but instead, she turned the land into a public park. My sister and I have been going out there since we learned to walk and to skate the first day that the lake is frozen enough for it each year. My mother used to bring us all the time.” She sighed softly. “Dawn and I have only gone a handful of times since our mother died.” 

Bog reached over and laid a hand on her knee. “Thank you for wanting to take me.” 

Marianne smiled and covered his hand with hers. “I never brought Roland, but you’re different.” 

Bog blushed and shared a smile with the princess. 

Brutus drove along a road flanked by a dense wood and turned onto a road that continued deeper into the forested area until the trees parted and revealed a large, beautiful frozen lake. The spot was, Bog thought with lifted eyebrows, beautiful. Snow-covered mountains could be seen in the distance against the light grey sky. Pine trees framed the lake, some of which had been decorated for Christmas with ornaments and lights, and there were a few snow-covered tables and benches that sat along the edges of the frozen lake. 

A few people were already here, but not many. Bog was sure once word was out that the princess was here that would change. He could see a handful of people on the lake glancing over at their small train of cars. 

Brutus pulled up into a waiting parking space between two cars that were already parked with castle staff waiting outside of them. Another four vehicles drove into the parking spaces behind them (usually they would not have had so many guards with them, but with the promise of a possible large press appearance, Sunny and Brutus had decided on a larger gathering of castle guards.) 

Marianne practically jumped out of the car in her excitement, her skates draped around her shoulders. “Come on Bog.” She leaned in, gesturing at him. 

Bog smiled back and got out of the car with a sigh. “I still don’t think this is a good idea,” he said, contradicting his earlier statement that this would be fun. The prospect of falling down on the ice--and in view of other people, including the press--felt foolish now that he was here. 

Marianne linked her arm in Bog’s leading him toward the lake with Brutus walking behind them. “Oh pish posh. It’ll be fun. Just hold my hand.” She smiled brightly. 

Her excitement and happiness was contagious and Bog couldn’t stop grinning. She led him over to a bench and sat down, quickly removing her boots and slipping on her ice skates. Bog sat down next to her and started to do the same, sliding his long feet into his new skates. 

“You know, this is going to look like a giraffe on skates right? I’m going to be all spinning arms and legs,” Bog muttered. 

Marianne laughed. “Have you ever skated?” 

Bog shrugged. “Ice skated a few times when I was a kid, roller skated until I was 14 and it wasn’t as cool anymore.” 

Marianne nodded. “Well, I’ll hold your hand. I’m sure it will come back to you.” 

Bog snorted. “Don’t be so sure.” 

Marianne stood up, flexing her feet and ankles before she skated a few feet out onto the ice. Bog was still in the middle of tying his laces, but stopped to watch her as she spun around, her arms out. She looked sweet and graceful, a swan. She moved elegantly back and forth on the ice before skating back over to him, spinning around again before she stopped. 

Bog grinned at her. “You’re a skilled skater, I see.” 

Marianne laughed. “Nah, just been doing this for a long time. You ready?” 

Bog finished with his laces and stood, carefully. He wobbled a little on the blades, but Marianne reached out and took his hands. Bog edged forward stiffly. 

Marianne giggled. “Just relax.” 

Bog wrinkled his nose at her. “Easy for you to say.” 

She laughed pulling him farther onto the ice before she let go of one hand and turned so that she could put her arm around Bog, continuing to hold one of his hands. “Now, just try to glide; don’t move your legs stiffly…” She grinned. “...be one with the ice.” 

Bog narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re not funny.” 

She grinned, her brown eyes twinkling. “Yes I am.” 

Bog grumbled and focused on trying to move his legs, to “glide” on the ice. “You know, a man of my height isn’t meant to glide.” 

Marianne eased him around the lake trying not to laugh. “You can do it.” 

Bog felt his balance slip. He let go of her hand, his arms pinwheeling. “Ah shit!” 

When Bog fell backwards, Marianne tried to catch him, but he slammed down on his rear. His gum popped out of his mouth and flew across the ice to disappear in the snow at the edge. He slowly slid for a few seconds on the ice before stopping. Marianne got out of the way just in time or Bog would have taken her down with him. 

“Bloody hell!” Bog winced and snarled. “I don’t have enough cushion back there to land on my ass. I felt that in my teeth!” 

Marianne laughed skating back over to him and putting her hands out. “Come on, let's keep trying.” 

Bog muttered. “I think you’re doing this just to get a good laugh.” 

Marianne smirked. “That was not my original intent--but I am having fun.” 

Bog gave her a mock glare, but a smile kept tugging at the corners of his mouth as he put his hands in hers. “You’re an evil princess.” 

She grinned, pulling him to his feet. “I never said I was a good princess now did I?” 

Bog laughed as he clambered to his feet, slipping and sliding a little, but he avoided falling again--with Marianne’s help. “No, that’s true. You didn’t.” 

Marianne turned to the side, holding his hand. “Just watch the way I move my legs. I’m sure it’ll come back to you.” 

“Maybe…” He held her hand tightly and moved with the awkward hesitance of the unskilled. He thought for a moment that he could be called just skilled enough to do more harm than good. 

Marianne giggled as they moved, beginning to circle the lake. Bog smiled back at her as Marianne spun around to take his other hand. She led him along slowly, skating backwards and gently tugging Bog with her. Bog glanced down at his feet, but Marianne whispered. 

“Just look at me.” 

Bog looked up, his eyes meeting hers and suddenly he couldn’t think about anything but her, her deep brown eyes, the feel of her hands in his as she pulled him along. He would let her pull him anywhere Bog thought and realized he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. 

Marianne smiled back at him, her heart thudding hard in her chest. 

* 

Roland arrived at the lake twenty minutes later. His nose was bandaged up with a large ugly white bandage across his face, though the bandage could not hide all the bruising that framed his nose. The doctor has set his nose and told him that it would most likely heal straight, but if not, they could talk about surgery later. Roland was furious. He could have sought charges against the peasant but had decided he would rather take care of that man, that cretin himself. 

He hadn’t really decided what he was going to get; a quick internet search on Bog King had given him nothing he could use against the tall, ugly...man. All he had learned was that Bog King was a well-known author with nothing in his past that could be used against him. He had a dead father, no siblings, no girlfriends, no sex scandals, no drugs, no trouble with the law except for last night...nothing… 

It was infuriating!! 

Then, one of Roland’s servants had come to him with information that the Princess Marianne was going to be out at the lake to ice skate with that American. 

Roland had left right away. He had no idea yet what he was going to do, but he needed to be there. 

Except when he arrived at the lake, all he could do was stare. Roland saw several members of the local press at the lake taking pictures and he noticed a heavier presence of guards than 

Marianne usually had with her. Roland would have a chance to get anywhere near the princess… 

Roland sat in his car, watching the princess and her author friend, trying to figure out what he was going to do when… 

* 

Other skaters kept a respectful distance from the princess and her companion, though several people were whispering and there was the occasional flash of a camera, but Marianne and Bog ignored them all. 

Marianne stretched out her arms, her fingers hooked around Bog’s fingers. “Okay, I’m going to let go…” 

Bog was looking down at his feet, but his eyes shot back up to lock gazes with her, his blue eyes round with panic. “I don’t think…” 

Marianne giggled. “Come on Bog...you have this…” 

She let go. 

Bog slid for a few feet before he hit something on the ice or he simply lost his balance, but suddenly his legs went flying up from under him and he was losing control. Bog overcompensated, his arms pinwheeling again, but it was too much and his legs flew up into the air. Bog fell backwards and slammed onto the unyielding ice. He managed to twist his torso enough that he fell on his side rather than his back. He tried to twist, but instead, he spun around on his shoulder in a circle before finally coming to a stop. He rolled onto his back with a groan. Marianne was doing her best not to giggle, but she couldn’t help it; he had looked hilarious. 

She covered her mouth, skating closer, stopping by his side. “Are you all right?” 

Bog laid there glaring at the sky and answered with a loud groan. “Giraffe.” 

Marianne laughed, skating a little closer and crouched next to him. “Maybe you’re right, you are a giraffe.” 

Bog grinned at her, his hands resting on his chest. “Told you.” 

Marianne started to reach out for him. “Let’s try…” 

But Bog suddenly grabbed her arms and yanked her down on top of him. He hadn’t thought about the move, he had simply done it. When she had leaned over him, bright brown eyes, red nose and cheeks, that gorgeous smile, all he thought about was how he wanted to kiss her. Instead of thinking about it too much, Bog had simply pulled her to him. 

Marianne’s skates went out from under her as she landed on his chest with a yelp. Bog let out a huff of breath when she landed on him, but he started to laugh. 

Marianne giggled giving him a light smack. “You’re an idiot!” 

Bog grinned at her. “Yep, I am.” 

They looked at each other, a moment that seemed to stretch out, a moment that held only the two of them. Their hearts beat together, their eyes locked on each other, their wants and desires coming together in that moment. Bog reached up and cupped the back of her head. He pulled her gently to him. Marianne leaned down toward him and slowly closed her eyes as her lips met Bog’s warm lips. They forgot about everyone around them. 

Bog kissed her slowly, softly, the kissed filled with tenderness, his tongue sliding and twisting around her tongue in a slow dance. He was lost, in love, and he didn’t care if he got hurt. This moment was worth all the pain that might come. 

Marianne leaned heavily against him, caressing his cheek with one hand, her fingers sliding into the hair of his beard, caressing through the cold whiskers while she moved her mouth over his in a slow, burning kiss filled with passion. 

* 

Roland’s eyes bugged wide in his head. That was not just a peck, or a simple kiss! It was a full-on, passionate kiss...of...love. 

Fuck! Roland slammed his fists onto the dash of his car. Marianne was supposed to come crawling back to him!! She was supposed to feel bad about herself, weak! She was supposed to need him!! But that kiss...a kiss that was going to be all over the papers and internet by the time he drove the fuck home…. 

Roland snarled and banged his fists a few more times against the dash before he stopped himself. 

No. 

No. He could fix this...he just had to get rid of the competition… 

Roland wasn’t a killer, nothing like that, but if Bog King didn’t show up for the Christmas Ball Princess Marianne would be devastated, especially if she thought the King had simply left. 

Roland smiled and turned the key in his car, pulling out with a small squeal of tires. 

* 

The drive back to the castle was nice. Bog sighed happily with Marianne leaning against his shoulder and chest, his arm around her shoulders. 

“Do you know what you’re going to wear to the Ball?” Marianne asked, glancing up at him from where her head rested against his shoulder. 

“No idea…” Bog said softly. “I haven’t really had a chance to think about it...I wasn’t really sure if…” 

“Of course you are coming. That hasn’t changed.” Marianne smiled, pulling his hand that hung over her shoulder closer and kissed his fingers. Bog’s cheeks burned with pleasure. “I’ll get the royal tailor to come visit you before dinner to discuss what you can wear.” 

Bog frowned a little. “A tailor?” 

Marianne nodded. “His name is Sahil, he’s fantastic.” 

Bog’s grimace made Marianne laugh. “Oh stop it’ll be fine.” 

Bog kissed her forehead. “If you say so.” 

When they arrived back at the castle, Marianne pulled Bog to the side, the two of them slipping into a small dark space by the stairs. Brutus smiled, closed the door, and walked inside to leave the two of them alone. 

Marianne grabbed Bog by the front of his coat and twisted Bog around. She pressed him back against the wall by the stairs. She stood on her toes and kissed him again, her tongue sliding against his lips. 

Bog blinked in surprise at Marianne’s aggressiveness, but he smiled, put his arms around her, and pulled her closer while opening his mouth to her. Their tongues met and Marianne’s hands slid up his chest to go around his neck, deepening the kiss. 

They kissed intently for a few more precious seconds before Marianne pulled away. She blushed and smiled. “I ah...better go to my fitting. See you at dinner.” 

Bog grinned knowing he probably looked stupid. “Ah yeah...see you at dinner.” 

Marianne giggled and hurried off. 

Bog waited a few beats before he pulled away from the shadows and headed up the stairs to his room only to stop short when his phone went off. He frowned, pulling his phone from his coat pocket (thankful he hadn’t crushed the damn thing when he fell ice skating) to see a number he didn’t know. For a moment he didn’t answer, then sighed and hit the reply button. 

“Bog King.” 

“Mr. King…” Bog instantly recognized the voice of Roland Knight even if it did sound a bit nasally now. 

“How did you get my number?” Bog growled. 

Roland laughed on the other end. “Your agent. I want to...well, I want to call a truce.” 

Bog narrowed his eyes. “Truce?” 

“Yes. We shouldn’t be fighting like this and...I want to tell you the truth about what happened between Marianne and me.” Roland sounded sincere. 

“Marianne told me what happened,” Bog said in a stern tone, but Roland sighed. 

“Yes, but I just want to give you the full story. Marianne has every right to hate me. I deserve it, but I would still like my chance to tell you the full story and to shake hands and part friends, like men. Can we do that?” Roland asked. “If you agree, I give you my word I will not say another word against Princess Marianne and the royal family. You give me a chance to tell you my side and print the truth, I’ll walk away and never bother her again.” 

Bog frowned, looking down at his boots. He wasn’t sure about this, but maybe he could make sure that Roland walked away from the lies and bullshit he had been spreading. Bog would do anything for Marianne, he realized, anything at all to make her happy. 

“All right. When and where?” Bog asked. 

Roland smiled on the other end. “Meet me at the ruin of the original castle in an hour; it’ll take that long to hike from the castle to the ruin. Just head north through the woods, Mr. King. You can’t miss it.” 

Bog sucked on his bottom lip before he snarled. “I’ll kick your ass if this is a trick or you try to bad mouth the princess.” 

“I won’t! I swear! You have my word as a noble,” Roland said earnestly. 

“Fine,” Bog ground out and hung up the phone. 

He turned and headed back down the stairs. 

No one saw him leave. 

* 

Marianne stood looking at herself in the mirror. 

The gown she was wearing was a full ball gown in deep purple, with a deep sweetheart neckline with slender off the shoulder straps that had long lace sleeves in the same shade of purple. The gown had diamonds sewn within it that made the fabric shimmer every time she moved. 

Marianne smiled. She hadn’t been sure about the gown, but now, knowing that Bog was going to be there, she felt excited about the Christmas Ball. 

Dawn sat in a chair watching as Sahil made some adjustments to the length of the gown. “You look amazing Marianne.” 

Marianne glanced at her sister’s reflection. “You think so?” 

Dawn nodded. “Bog is going to stop breathing when he sees you.” 

Marianne blushed looking down at herself. “I hope he likes it.” 

“You’re in it, he’ll love it,” Dawn said with a smile. “It’s nice to see you smiling again by the way.” 

Marianne blushed, smiling even as she pressed her lips together to stop herself. “It’s nice to have someone like me for me,” Marianne said softly. 

Dawn propped her elbow on the arm of her chair and set her chin in her hand. “I know.” 

Marianne lifted a brow at her sister. Both sisters locked eyes and after a moment, they began to giggle. 

Dawn pressed her lips together taking a deep breath. “So...is it serious? You and Bog that is.” 

Marianne sighed. “I don’t know, but...all I want to do is kiss him. It’s so different than with Roland.” She turned around to face her sister. “He is...there’s this burning in my gut and it's hard to breathe...and I feel flush.” 

Dawn giggled. “Love, it's real love.” 

Marianne bit her bottom lip. “How do you know?” 

“Because that’s how I feel with Sunny. Being away from him is...difficult. And when he’s in the room with me it feels as if everything is suddenly all right...I can breathe again.” Dawn frowned. 

“And when he touches me...just a brush of his fingers...it’s...erotic.” Dawn said the last word in a whisper, blushed, and giggled, but Marianne nodded. 

“Yes! Exactly!” 

Both sisters giggled again. 

* 

Bog brought his hands up and blew on them, trying to chase off the cold. The sun was quickly setting as he walked through the woods heading in the direction Roland had told him to go. A few snowflakes began to fall while he walked through the snow that lay heavy on the ground. The woods were thick and he was beginning to think Roland had sent him on a wild goose chase when he saw a clearing up ahead. Bog stepped past the trees and stopped in surprise. 

He saw a castle in ruins, but it looked exactly like an old medieval castle from a storybook should look, covered in snow and vines. There were rounded doorways and the hollow windows were rounded as well. What was left of the castle was massive, a large stone walkway that was missing the metal gate with tall square towers, parapet walls, albeit crumbling. 

Bog walked through the massive gate, looking around in awe. The place must have been impressive in its prime, a beautiful castle at one time long ago. As he looked around, he could see the deteriorating remains of a spiral stone staircase and some missing walls, but there was a hint of how the castle might have looked like with stones still lining out walls and rooms. There were places where the forest had taken the castle back, areas filled with young trees and some much older growth. 

Bog made his way to the middle of the ruin. The shadows were long as the sun set, the grey sky made the darkness in the corners of the ruin darker, impossible to see through. He arrived at what might have been the middle of the castle. He saw more crumbling walls framing a courtyard where Bog found what might have been an old well. He wasn’t sure really, it looked like it was a deep hole surrounded by stone… 

Curiosity prompted Bog to lean over. He had no idea what it was, but when he looked down he couldn’t see the bottom. He wondered if it was an oubliette maybe? Bog frowned using his toe to lightly drop some loose stones into the hole. 

He frowned leaning over, holding his phone out to shine a light down, trying to penetrate the darkness when he heard movement behind him. 

Bog turned around to see Roland standing within inches of him. 

Bog jumped. He hadn’t even heard him! Roland’s green eyes were wide and a little wild, his blonde hair was a mess, and the author could see the blue and purple discoloration of bruises peeking out from under the bandage on the nobleman’s nose. 

“Let’s see if this breaks any bones, you prick,” Roland growled and shoved Bog in the chest. 

Bog fell backwards, teetered on the edge for a second, dropping his phone which fell down the hole and shattered. Bog reached out to grab at Roland, but Roland stepped back out of the way. 

Bog’s eyes widened in fear and then he was falling backwards into the pit. 

Roland heard the impact, but Bog didn’t cry out. 

* 

Roland walked over and looked down, but it was too dark for him to see anything. “Bog? Mr. King?” He called out, but he received no response. Roland grinned. “Now...I wonder how Marianne will feel when I tell her you left to head home.” 

Roland chuckled and turned, heading toward the castle.


	5. The Search

Bog’s eyes fluttered. He was pretty sure he had lost consciousness for a few minutes after he landed. 

He groaned, his head spinning as he tried to push himself up, but stopped after a few seconds and lay still again. He felt dizzy, and he could feel the throb of his pulse with every movement, pounding in his temples. 

When he got his hands on Roland...Bog pressed his lips together on the anger and pain that were coursing through him. 

He lay still for a few more seconds letting the dizziness subside a little, though the pain in his head was still there and now accompanied by a burning pain that he felt in his right leg. He waited a little longer, waiting until the throbbing pain in his head dulled a little more before trying to sit up, only to have that pain be replaced by the pain that suddenly flared in his right leg. 

Bog groaned and slowly reached down to brush his fingers over the site of the pain along the side of his thigh. He hissed when he touched his leg, snatching his fingers back. He couldn’t see really well down here in the hole he was currently in. It was dark and the moonlight was struggling to reach him, but he could feel the wet tackiness on his fingers telling him that he was bleeding. 

“Just fucking great,” Bog muttered. 

He lay still for a few more moments; the dizziness was beginning to fade a little more, which was good. He figured he had a concussion. Breathing was becoming easier too. He didn’t think he had broken any ribs, but the fall had definitely knocked the air from his lungs. He began to move slowly, carefully trying to assess the damage the fall had caused. He very slowly tested out each limb, flexing fingers and toes, moving his elbows and knees (though fire shot up his leg when he tried to move his injured, bleeding leg which made him stop), but nothing seemed to be broken. 

Thank god for that Bog thought. 

Bog eased himself into a sitting position, noting his hands sank just a little into the cold earth. It was still slightly damp down here despite the cold and the snow. He tried to move his damaged leg again, but a hot flare of pain raced up his thigh from his right leg when he tried to move it. Bog sucked in a sharp breath, going still and hoping to reduce the pain that throbbed with each beat of his heart. He could feel the wound, a long cut that opened wider when he moved his leg and feel the fresh, dampness as more blood oozed from the wound when he moved. 

“Fuck,” Bog hissed in pain, but he couldn’t just lie here without moving and hope someone found him. 

Bog rolled himself onto his knees; the pain made his vision waiver for a moment. He remained still, leaning on his hands, taking slow, deep breaths before he started to feel around for his phone. He was pretty sure he had heard it shatter, but that didn’t mean he might not still get a signal or maybe at least a light. 

As he slowly crawled around, moving carefully, the pain in his thigh forced him to stop every couple of seconds. He could feel large stones, what he thought might be bits of masonry, as well as places where the ground was mucky with cold mud and small spots of frigid water. When Bog’s fingers brushed against the stones, he shuddered. He was damn lucky he hadn’t hit any of the large stones, or pieces of mortar down here when he fell or he could have broken a leg or arm, or worse--he could have been killed. All it would have taken was his head hitting one of those stones and he would be dead. 

Bog shuddered at that thought. Damn that Roland! 

After a bit more searching, Bog’s fingers brushed against his phone. He eased himself back, wincing in pain as he sat back on his rear, easing his injured leg out straight. The agony in his leg burned bright, taking his breath away, causing him to see spots of darkness around the edges of his vision--such as it was down here. He leaned back against the wall of the hole, closing his eyes letting the pain ease to a point he thought he could ignore it for a bit before he examined his phone. 

It was hard to tell in the dark, but he could see that the screen was cracked. He turned it over feeling the cracks in the plastic along the back. He wasn’t hopeful, but when Bog hit the power button he was elated to see that it came on, the light brightening his darkness. He held the phone up and looked around. 

The walls were a mix of earth and stone, giving Bog no idea what this had been used for, but as he shined his light up, he realized he had fallen far enough to make getting out a problem. He frowned, studying the walls; he might be able to climb out under optimal conditions, but with the wound in his leg, the task would be that much more difficult… 

He shined the light down at his wounded leg to see exactly what was wrong with it. Bog felt a little lightheaded as he examined the wound. It was roughly ten inches long, wrapping around from the side of his thigh and over the top into the meat several inches above his knee. It was deep, bloody and would need stitches, but it wasn’t life-threatening...as long as he didn’t get an infection. He tried to examine the wound a little more closely to see if there was anything in the wound, but the sight of that much blood and flesh made him ill, dizzy. 

Bog moved the light away. Seeing the wound and the blood made his already woozy stomach feel that much more nauseous and caused his temples to pound in time to his heartbeat even more. 

He once more shined the light overhead, biting his bottom lip as he contemplated whether or not he could climb his way out of this hole before he turned the phone toward him. He frowned checking for a cell phone signal. He was pleased to find a signal, weak, really weak, but it was there. Bog held his phone up over his head trying to catch the signal or make it stronger, but moving the phone from his prone position in the bottom of a hole wasn’t doing anything to strengthen the signal. If anything moving his arm about caused what little signal he was getting to become weaker.. 

Bog stared at his phone, wasn’t sure if he could get a message out. Hell, he wasn’t sure his phone worked enough for him to get a message out, but he was feeling colder and a numbness was settling over him, which made him wonder if shock was beginning to set in along with it just getting damn cold out here. In addition to that, his hands had started to tremble, the ache in his bones was going from cold, to numb. He shivered, his teeth actually chattered together, the chill settling deeper in his bones. He looked up into the darkness with a frown. 

Bog used his finger to bring up the number pad, thankful that the touch screen, though badly cracked seemed to still be working. He thought about contacting Marianne but changed his mind. 

He didn’t want to worry her. No, he would call his brother. 

He held the phone up to his ear, praying and speed-dialed his brother only to have the call drop within seconds to connect. He tried several more times, but nothing happened. 

Bog shivered, looking down at his phone, licked his lips trying not to panic. Maybe the texting would work, but when Bog pressed the letters only the right-hand letters would show up on the screen. 

“Shhhittt,” he muttered, his voice stuttering from the cold. He typed a message and pressed send, his brows raised in surprise when the text went through. Maybe he could get help he thought--that was if Sunny got his message. 

* 

Marianne had showered and changed into a pair of fitted white slacks with a white turtleneck. The outfit made her feel slick and sophisticated and a little sexy. She hoped Bog would like how it looked on her as she hurried toward his room. She was all smiles when she arrived at Bog’s door, her heart beating quickly in anticipation of seeing him again even though it had only been a couple of hours since she had kissed him in the shadow of the stairs. She grinned at herself, her cheeks red as she knocked on his bedroom door. 

Her plan was to walk with him to dinner and maybe steal a kiss or two before they arrived, slipping away into a couple of darkened doorways on the way. She blushed again at her thoughts. She hadn’t ever been this giddy about someone before, even when she had thought herself in love with Roland. She had never felt this level of attraction or...she frowned struggling to find a word for what she was feeling. It was so different than what she had felt with Roland, deeper maybe, more solid, in a way that her feelings for Roland had never been. There had been a fairytale quality to her romance with Roland, as if it had never quite been real, like a movie, the handsome lord, the castle, the princess desperate for someone to understand her, to love her for who she was and not her title… 

Roland had played into everything that Marianne thought she wanted in order to get his hands on her crown and she had waltzed right into it. If she hadn’t discovered his cheating she would have followed Roland and his lies right up to the altar. God, she had been such a fool, but Bog was different. Bog was real. He, unlike Roland, hadn’t tried to feed her a line or do things that he thought would win her over. He had been himself, grouchy, unsure, flaws on display, and genuine. That was the difference right there, she thought. Bog was genuine. He wasn’t the fairytale lord come to sweep her off her feet. Bog was simply a man doing the best he could and he liked her. He liked Marianne, not Princess Marianne, but simple Marianne Summerfield and she realized that she loved him for that. 

Marianne smiled, reaching up to rub her cheeks before she knocked again. When there was no answer, she waited a few seconds, a frown forming on her lips when Bog didn’t answer on the next knock. She knocked again and waited another few seconds, but still no answer. Marianne felt a chill in her blood, her heart falling into the pit of her stomach. 

She knocked again. 

“Bog?” This time her knuckles rapped a little louder against the wood of the door and called out leaning her ear to the door, but there was still no answer. She frowned, didn’t hear anything on the other side of the door, no rustle of movement, no sound at all. 

Marianne looked down at the doorknob, pressing her lips together as she tried to decide what to do. If he was in the bathroom or in the middle of getting dressed, walking in would be rude, but what if he had slipped in the tub? Or tripped and hurt himself? What if he was unconscious? 

Marianne sucked on her bottom lip for a second or two before she knocked and grabbed the handle with her other hand at the same time. 

“I’m coming in Bog,” she called out as she pushed the door open and stepped into the room. 

Marianne stopped, going very still. 

The room had the strange quality that rooms had when the person who belonged in it was gone, a strange hollow feeling as if the soul of the room had been removed. She flipped on the lights, her heart beating quickly. For a moment, she half expected him to be gone, to have left her… 

But as she looked around the room, she realized that his things were still here even though he wasn’t. Maybe he had gone down to the dining room, but something told her he hadn’t. She didn’t know why, maybe it was the chill in the room as if he hadn’t been in the room for hours since of just minutes, but she knew, just knew something was wrong. 

* 

Sunny pulled on his slacks glancing over at Dawn, a grin on his lips as he watched her shimmy into her skirt. Her blonde hair was a mess from his fingers being lost in the soft golden locks. She turned around, pulling her sweater over her head, then giggled when she caught him staring. 

“What are you doing?” Dawn asked brightly, her cheeks red, her lips slightly swollen from kissing. 

Sunny blushed. “Just thinking that I love you.” 

Dawn stopped in mid-reach for her shoe to stare at him, her eyes bright. “Say it again.” 

“I love you,” Sunny said earnestly. “I’ve loved you from the moment I started working here as an assistant...the first time you said hello to me, I knew I loved you Princess Dawn Summerfield and never in my wildest dreams did I think you would love me in return.” Sunny smiled at her and whispered, his voice cracking with feeling. “I am in love with you and I love you.” 

Dawn made a small noise, a cross between a sob and a laugh. Suddenly Sunny had her in his arms again, her lips pressed to his mouth. He held her tight, kissing her passionately when he heard his phone. It wasn’t the regular chime that indicated it was a member of the household or the ringing that duplicated the nation's anthem which meant the king, but it was the song he used for his brother, The Beatles “Paperback Writer.” He had thought it funny to have that as his ringtone for his brother’s incoming texts. 

Sunny ignored the phone for a few seconds, but when it would stop only to start again he finally broke free from Dawn with a sigh. “I should probably get that, it’s from Bog,” He said with an apologetic shrug. 

Dawn giggled, bopping the tip of his nose with her finger. “I should probably finish dressing and get down to dinner.” 

She kissed the side of his mouth and whispered. “I love you too Sunny, with all my heart.” 

Sunny grinned goofily as he watched Dawn head back to search for her shoes while Sunny went over to grab up his phone. 

He frowned in confusion looking down a the text from Bog. “n hlp in hol hu my l” 

“What the hell?” Sunny said out loud and texted back. “Are you drunk?” 

Bog didn’t respond right away, but the text that came through was just as odd. “I’m in a hol oln puh m I m hu n hlp Phon okn only h ih i ok.” 

“Still doesn’t make any sense,” Sunny murmured. 

Dawn slipped on her shoes glancing over at Sunny. “What’s wrong?” 

“Bog is texting me, but the text is all weird and doesn’t make any sense.” Sunny frowned as Dawn came over to look at the text with him. Her brow furrowed as she tried to read the text out loud then stopped when she got to Bog’s last text. “Phone...wait…” She pointed at the last text. “I think he’s saying his phone is broken, that only the right side is working. I’m only guesing, but if you notice…” She pointed at Sunny’s screen. “... only the letters from the left side of the screen are missing. Maybe that’s what’s going on, the right-hand buttons on the keypad are the only ones working. Maybe that’s why the left-hand letters are missing. Might also be why he didn’t just call, if his phone’s broken, maybe he can only text?” 

Sunny frowned and read Bog’s text again, this time adding letters. “Need help? Hurt...maybe? I’m in a...I...don’t know. And what is...oln? me I...I just don’t know…” Sunny shook his head. “I’m not sure, but...you think this is real? I mean, you think Bog is hurt?” 

Dawn stared at the text message then back at Sunny. “We need to find Marianne.” 

* 

Marianne slipped on her coat, ready to head out and look for Bog. She had been to all the obvious places in the castle with no luck in finding him. She had questioned any of the staff she had come across, but no one knew where he was or had seen him in some time. A dark part of her worried that he had left her, fled, leaving everything behind to get away from her, but she knew that wasn’t true. 

Bog wasn’t like that. 

She had just slipped her coat on, her hand on the door when she heard Dawn call out. “Marianne?!” 

Marianne turned to see Sunny, Brutus, and Dawn hurrying toward her. She hated the way her voice sounded, but she was scared. “Bog’s missing.” 

Sunny held his phone out to her. “I got these text just a few minutes ago from him. I’m not sure we’re reading them correctly, but I think my brother is in trouble.” 

Marianne took Sunny’s phone, her brow furrowed in concentration as she studied the text messages. “Has he responded back since the last one?” 

Sunny shook his head. “Not for the last five minutes.” 

Marianne turned pale. She swallowed and used Sunny’s phone to text. “Bog, this is Marianne where are you?” 

She waited, holding the phone in a death grip, all the blood draining from her features. Brutus, Sunny, and Dawn gathered around her, all of them staring at the screen. 

Nothing happened for a full ten seconds. 

Marianne began to tremble when a text came through. “lly old. My l in huin nymo h ill hu y.” 

Marianne looked up from the text. “What does that mean?” 

Dawn pointed at the phone. “I think only the right side of his touch screen is working.” Dawn studied the text before she answered. “I’m only guessing, but I think he’s cold and…” She frowned staring at the jumble of letters and shook her head. “I don’t know, but I think he’s in trouble.” 

Marianne looked at Sunny. “Does his phone have a tracker?” 

Sunny frowned looking confused. “I have no idea.” 

Marianne began sucking on her bottom lip, trying to keep the fear at bay. “Bog describe where you are how did you get there?” 

Everyone waited. 

Marianne thought it was taking forever for him to text back, but finally a text came through. 

“Uin ol le oln ouh m h o lk i in h oo I lk h. I’m o lpy.” 

Marianne stared at the text, her eyes filling with tears. “I have no…” 

Dawn whispered. “It think that last one is that he’s so sleepy.” 

Marianne looked over at her sister and Dawn shrugged. “It’s just a guess. If he’s hurt he might have hit his head and it's cold out.” 

Sunny and Brutus exchanged a look but said nothing. 

Marianne hissed. “We’ve got to figure out…” She stopped, then quickly texted Bog back. “I’m going to ask you yes or no questions just answer with a Y or N understand.” 

Bog texted back after a moment. “Y.” 

Marianne took a breath. A soft giggle, not quite hysterical, escaped her lips. “Good. Are you outside?” 

“Y.” 

Marianne nodded trying to think. “Did you walk?” 

“Y.” 

Dawn frowned. “Maybe he’s on the road?” 

Sunny’s voice was a whisper. “You think he was hit by a car?” 

Marianne’s eyes widened a fraction. Tears glistened on her lashes, but she looked down at the phone and texted. “Are you on the road?” 

“N.” 

Dawn frowned looking confused. “Is he on the grounds somewhere?” 

“Are you on the grounds.” Marianne texted. 

“N/Y.” 

“Yes and no?” Sunny glanced at Brutus who said. “He might have walked into the woods.” 

Marianne looked up. “Why would he walk into the woods?” 

“You don’t think he got lost do you?” Dawn asked looking between everyone. 

“Are you in the woods?” Marianne asked. 

This time Bog didn’t answer for almost a full minute. Marianne’s hands were shaking her fingers ached as they all waited, but finally, a text came through. 

“Y. I’m o lpy. Ju n o lo my y.” 

Marianne stared at the text and said softly. “I’m...so lpy...sleepy? Just my...Just my y...y...my y...?” She looked up at everyone, but it was Dawn who said. “Eyes? He wants to...close his eyes maybe?” 

Brutus, his voice hushed, said. “If he’s starting to suffer from hypothermia he’ll be sleepy, and if he’s hurt and gone into shock…” 

Marianne blinked and the tears rolled down her cheeks. “Brutus, get some guards out to search the grounds and the forest. I’m going to go into the woods myself…” 

Brutus started to protest, but Marianne narrowed her eyes. “Get me…” 

Dawn piped up. “Get us.” 

Marianne gave her sister a grateful look. “Get us some flashlights and whatever else you think we’ll need. We are going to go find him.” 

Brutus nodded but added. “Not without me. I’ll get everyone searching, but I’m going with you.” 

“So am I,” Sunny said. 

Only now did Marianne notice how pale he was, how stricken he looked. She had forgotten; Bog was his stepbrother. She nodded. “All right. We all go.” 

Dawn was worrying at her bottom lip when she looked up. “You don’t think he went to the ruin out in the woods do you? I mean, did he even know about it?” 

Sunny frowned. They all knew about the ruin of the old castle. Marianne and Dawn had been forbidden from playing out there when they were children after one of the kitchen staff’s son had fallen and broken a leg. 

Marianne frowned in thought. “I doubt he knew about them. I mean, no one goes out there, but he might have learned about them from one of the staff maybe? Or maybe there was a mention in a book...I don’t know, but he could have found it if he was walking in the woods.” Marianne’s fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard. “Bog which direction did you walk from the castle?” 

It was a full minute before Bog answered her. “Noh.” 

Sunny whispered. “North.” 

“That would be the direction of the ruin, he could be there.” Dawn looked at everyone. “And that place is dangerous.” 

Marianne nodded. “That’s where we’ll go first.” She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “If he’s not there we’ll expand the search into the rest of the wood.” 

Brutus nodded. “I’ll get what we need, Your Highness.” 

“Thank you, Brutus.” Marianne said softly watching as the big man nodded, turned around, and hurried off. 

Marianne texted Bog again. “Bog don’t go to sleep stay awake. I’m coming.” 

She stared at the phone, holding it with trembling fingers, this time a full three minutes passed before Bog answered. “k you. I lo you.” 

Marianne smiled, more tears running down her cheeks. “I love you too.” 

* 

It took fifteen minutes before they were ready to leave. Brutus had to get what members of the guard were on duty that night set to searching while leaving enough to stand guard. He had even spent a few minutes calling in some off duty guards to search the castle grounds and to drive along the road just in case Bog had been wrong and he was on the road. He had also called the royal family doctor asking her to not only come to the castle for when they did find Bog, but to tell them what to take with them. 

He brought back a couple of backpacks with blankets and a first aid kit that they had in the castle that contained a mylar blanket. 

“All right, we ready?” Brutus asked while Marianne shrugged on one of the backpacks. 

“Yes. Let’s go.” Marianne turned to look at everyone before she opened the door. 

* 

Bog blinked, struggling to keep his eyes open. His leg had stopped hurting a while ago, which was nice, but the cold was bad. He looked up watching the snowfall. It was pretty, if uncomfortable. 

He smiled thinking about how pretty Marianne looked with snow in her hair. He grinned, his eyes slowly closing as he thought about her dressed like a fairy tale princess, snow in her hair twinkling like diamonds and her smile. 

He sighed, letting the weariness take him into the darkness where he wasn’t cold anymore. 

* 

Marianne and the others headed north into the woods. Nearly every guard on duty was searching the castle grounds while the staff searched the castle. Someone would find him, Marianne assured herself. Someone would find him and he would be safe and sound, his phone broken, he was simply lost, he wasn’t hurt. 

Marianne kept repeating those words to herself as she cast her flashlight around, looking for evidence he had gone this way, footprints or broken branches, something that indicated that Bog had gone this way, but she didn’t see anything, especially since it had been snowing again over the last hour. Marianne tried not to be scared, but Bog hadn’t been responding to any more of her text messages on Sunny’s phone. 

That worried her deeply. 

Marianne shone her flashlight through the woods while Dawn, Sunny, and Brutus fanned out from her, all of them occasionally calling out Bog’s name. 

“BOG!!” Marianne called, her flashlight beam making the normally peaceful wood look frightening, threatening. Shadows jumped and scurried away while every sound, the crush of frozen leaves, the snapping of a branch, the wind causing the strange mournful sounds of tree branches rubbing together. 

Dawn came closer to her sister and pointed with her beam. “The old castle ruins should be that way just a little further.” 

Marianne nodded, her lips set in a thin line. 

* 

Bog opened his eyes feeling confused, not sure where he was at the moment. He frowned. He felt so cold, but at least he had stopped shivering. He looked around trying to figure out where he was and why he had woken up when he heard his name. 

“BOG!!” 

“Marianne?” Bog asked softly, then a little louder. “Marianne?!” 

* 

The castle ruins looked creepy to Marianne in the dark, covered in a fine layer of quickly thickening snow. Marianne and the others moved their flashlight beams over the ruin looking around, checking darkened corners and heavy overgrowth. 

Marianne called out. “BOG!! BOG, ARE YOU HERE??!” 

In between calls from the four searchers, she heard a faint sound. She wasn’t completely sure she had heard anything at first, but she hissed loudly. “Everyone be quiet!” 

Everyone stopped moving and listened, but they heard nothing other than the wind in the trees. 

Dawn opened her mouth to say something, but Marianne held up her hand to stop her sister. 

“BOG!” Marianne yelled and waited only to be rewarded a few seconds later by a faint sound. 

“Marianne?” 

“Bog!! Oh Bog!” Marianne spun around, her heart pounding hard and fast in her chest. “Bog where are you? Keep yelling so I can find you!” 

She moved slowly, listening, everyone else doing the same. 

Bog’s voice was faint, but he said clearly confused. “I don’t know, it’s dark.” 

Marianne moved carefully. “Keep talking Bog!” 

Bog’s confused voice rang out a little closer. “I think I feel...but...I don’t...where are you?” 

“I’m right here Bog. Can you keep talking?” Marianne called out. 

“I’m really tired,” Bog responded, his voice fainter. 

Marianne began to panic. “Bog don’t go to sleep, you have to keep talking.” Marianne found herself in a large open area. She moved her flashlight around with Dawn and the others doing the same, searching for any sign of Bog when Sunny’s beam found the edge of the stones that surrounded a hole. “Marianne--look at this!” Sunny raced over to the edge and aimed his beam down. 

Marianne and the others followed, all of them shining their beams down until Dawn yelped loudly. 

“THERE HE IS!!” 

Marianne gasped when she saw Bog below them in the hole. He looked pale, dirty, his hair and beard flecked with snow. Bog covered his eyes and gave her a smile. “Hey! Fancy meeting you here.” 

Marianne gasped on a sob, dropping to her knees at the edge. “Bog, oh my god...you’re all right.” 

Bog smiled. “Yeah I’m fine, leg stopped hurting. I just can't seem to climb out. Where am I...” Bog frowned. “I don't remember getting down here. That’s weird.” 

Brutus shone his light over Bog frowning when he saw the other man’s leg before he moved over to Marianne. “Your Highness, he probably isn’t all right. He’s been down there for at least a couple of hours. I’m willing to bet he’s in the early stages of hypothermia. We need to get him out quickly. The fact that he is conscious and speaking is good, but he’s clearly confused.” 

Marianne nodded, her face pale, but her brown eyes were determined. “So what do we do?” 

Brutus rubbed his lips together in thought looking down the hole. “All right, I have a rope with me…” 

Dawn blinked. “You do?” 

Brutus smiled at her. “Ex-military, Your Highness. When I heard Mr. King was missing, possibly hurt, I got everything I thought we might need.” 

Dawn looked at Sunny and said, “Wow,” clearly impressed. 

“All right…” Brutus continued. “I have a rope, We are going to lower the rope down. Sunny, can you climb up a rope?” 

Sunny nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“Good. Now we’re going to send Sunny down to help get the rope tied around Bog. Sunny is going to climb up with Bog, helping him and we are going to pull him up because he’s a little confused and he is going to have a hard time moving with that leg and the hypothermia. It’s going to take all of us. Can you do it?” 

Marianne nodded. “Yes.” 

Dawn and Sunny both chimed in with equal determination. “Yes.” 

Brutus nodded. “Good. Now, let’s get to work.” 

* 

It took them over an hour to get Bog safely to the top of the hole, between Sunny climbing down and the slow climb of bringing Bog up once Sunny had the rope around Bog, trying to hold his brother up, but between all of them, they got Bog up and out. 

Once Bog was out of the hole, they lowered him to the ground and Marianne wrapped him in the mylar blanket. 

“Oh Bog, what happened? How on earth did you end up here?” She grasped his face and kissed him, pressing her mouth to his lips before he could answer. She covered his face in kisses, tears running down her cheeks. 

Bog looked pale and weak, but he smiled at her leaning into her attention, wrapping his blanket covered arms around her and pulled her closer. Marianne snuggled against him while Brutus examined his leg. 

Bog smiled, kissing the top of Marianne’s head as he said softly, almost matter-of-factly. “Roland pushed me.” 

Marianne’s eyes widened as her head snapped up and she stared at Bog. “What?” 

Dawn gasped and Sunny sucked in a breath. 

Brutus cursed under his breath. “That mother fucker.” 

Bog smiled. “He wanted to talk and…” 

Marianne put a finger to his lips. “We’ll talk about that later, right now we need to get you home.” 

Marianne put her arms around Bog again, glancing down at his leg. She felt her stomach flip at the sight of the wound before turning her attention to Brutus. “I don’t think he can walk.” 

Brutus nodded. “No, he can’t.” 

Bog frowned. “Yeah, I can. It doesn’t hurt any longer.” 

He started to push himself up, but Brutus held the taller man down with one large hand on his shoulder. “Mr. King sir, I’m going to carry you back to the castle.” 

Bog shook his head with a frown. “No, I can walk…” 

Marianne grabbed Bog’s face in her hands forcing him to look at her. “Bog, this is a royal order, you let Brutus carry you or you’re having dinner in the dungeon.” 

Bog chuckled, his blue eyes a little too bright. “Do you really have a dungeon?” 

“You don’t let Brutus carry you, you’re going to find out,” Marianne hissed at him her brown eyes narrowed. 

Bog smiled. “You are so cute when you’re angry Princess.” 

Marianne blushed and stroked her thumbs along his cheeks. “So are you.” 

Brutus smiled and stood up. “All right we need to get him home and warmed up.” 

Marianne stood, giving Bog a kiss on the forehead before turning her attention to Brutus. “Let’s go.” 

Brutus squatted and eased Bog into his arms. Bog made a face. “I feel silly.” 

Marianne smiled. “You’d feel a lot silly when your leg gave out and you landed on your face.” 

She turned to Brutus. “Are you all right?” 

Brutus smiled. “No problem, Your Highness.” 

Marianne nodded turning to her sister and Sunny. “Let’s go.” 

* 

The next couple of hours were busy, between the trek back to the castle with Brutus carrying Bog, notifying the staff and the King that Bog had been found, ringing for the doctor, and having Brutus help strip Bog and put him in bed with several thermal blankets, the doctor examining him, giving Bog an IV, pain killers, and antibiotics. His leg was cleaned, stapled and bandaged, the fireplace in his bedroom burning merrily before everything finally settled down. 

Dr. Molina took Marianne aside, her voice was soft and kind as she spoke. “Just keep giving him warm drinks, some warm soup and keep him wrapped up, the fire going, but he’ll make a full recovery. He’s lucky you found him when you did Princess Marianne or this could have been a lot worse. He has a concussion and mild hyperthermia, but he’s going to be fine.” 

Marianne nodded. “What about his leg?” 

“As long as he’s careful, he’ll be fine. I think the cold actually helped. I would recommend he use a cane for a day, maybe two, and I left enough pain medication for the next day or so, but he should be right as rain in no time.” Dr. Molina smiled. “Just make sure he takes all his antibiotics and stays warm tonight.” 

Marianne smiled. “Thank you.” 

Dr. Molina smiled, her dark eyes warm and pleasant. “You are very welcome Princess Marianne.” 

* 

Marianne, dressed in her long, light pink nightgown, matching robe and fuzzy pink slippers, knocked softly before opening the door to Bog’s room. He smiled when he saw her, motioning her over. Marianne walked in, closing the door lightly behind her before moving over to ease herself down on the side of Bog’s bed. He was slowly eating some homemade chicken noodle soup that sat on a tray which rested on his uninjured thigh. He wore a white t-shirt and boxers, still looked pale, but he had more color in his cheeks than when they had brought him in. 

Bog smiled at her taking a bite of his soup. “This is really good.” 

Marianne smiled. “The cook made it yesterday for my father.” 

Bog’s eyes widened, but Marianne laughed. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty. Besides, my father said to you make sure you eat all of it.” 

Bog chuckled. “Tell him thank you.” 

Marianne smiled resting her hand on his knee. “How are you feeling?” 

“Tired, but warmer and the painkillers are working, so I feel a bit woozy.” Bog grinned at her. “Thank you for rescuing me. My Princess in Shining Armor,” Bog said softly as he gazed at her. 

Marianne blushed, smiling and reaching up to brush a lock of his dark hair off of his forehead. “It wasn’t just me.” 

“I know, but…” He set his spoon down. “You came for me and…” He reached over and laid his hand against her cheek and guided her to him. Marianne leaned toward him, her lips finding his, opening in a sweet and tender, yet passionate kiss until Marianne bumped the tray and almost spilled the soup. 

Bog chuckled and held onto the tray. 

Marianne laughed, then asked shyly. “Would it be all right if I laid down beside you?” 

Bog’s eyes widened a fraction, but his smile was brilliant. “YES! I mean yes, I would like that.” 

Marianne smiled and kicked off her slippers before going around to the other side of the bed and crawling under the covers next to him. 

Bog grinned, his cheeks were red. 

“Finish your soup, then we can...cuddle. I’ll keep you warm,” Marianne whispered. 

Bog picked up his bowl of soup and quickly drank it down, causing Marianne to laugh. He set the tray aside and slipped down into the bed, putting his arm out. Marianne snuggled against him resting her head on his chest. 

Bog frowned as he stroked her arm with the tips of his fingers. “I don’t want to get you in trouble,” he said softly, but Marianne shook her head. 

“Don’t worry about it.” She wrapped her arm around his middle. “I'm a princess remember, I can do what I want.” 

Bog chuckled softly. “I suppose you are and you can.” 

They were both quiet for a few seconds, Bog lazily brushing his fingers along her arm. 

Marianne whispered against his chest. “You scared me.” 

Bog sighed softly sinking more into the pillow, fatigue washing over him. “I’m sorry. Roland said he wanted to tell the truth of what happened between you, no more lies. I thought if I got the truth out of him, it would help with restoring your public image. I thought…” Bog sighed. “Sounds stupid now that I’m saying it out loud, but I guess I thought if I could get him to admit he had been the cause of your break up that he would stop spreading lies about you.” Bog groaned. “God, I’m such an idiot!” 

Marianne squeezed him. “No, you’re not. You just wanted to help me and made the mistake of trusting Roland. I’ve made that mistake too. He’s charming when he wants to be,” she whispered. 

Bog nodded. “Yeah. I told him I would kick his ass if he bad-mouthed you.” 

Marianne giggled looking up. “You did?” 

Bog nodded. “I did.” 

“My hero,” Marianne whispered and brushed her lips against his in a tender kiss. 

Bog grinned goofily before he said. “Maybe I was hoping he would screw up and I could kick his ass.” 

Marianne laughed, brushing her fingers through his beard. “Well, then I can definitely forgive you for almost getting yourself killed.” 

Bog chuckled deep in his chest, holding her tightly before relaxing again. 

Marianne murmured. “We should call the police; you should press charges.” 

Bog frowned. “I don’t know…” 

“Bog, he intended to really hurt you! You can’t let that go,” Marianne said angrily. 

“I know, but…” Bog sighed. “I just don’t want to waste any more time on him.” 

Marianne frowned, her brow furrowed, then smiled as a thought occurred to her. “Then I have another idea.” 

Bog lifted a weary brow at her and yawned. “You do?” 

She nodded. “I’ll have to speak to my father, but yes.” 

“Want to share?” he asked, but Marianne shook her head. 

“No, not yet. Not until after I talk to my father, in the morning.” 

Bog yawned again. “All right.” 

Marianne smiled rubbing her hand against the t-shirt that stretched across his chest. “You should close your eyes.” 

Bog’s eyes slid closed as he continued to brush his fingers lazily along her arm. “Yeah…” 

Marianne began to sing softly, her voice a whisper. 

“Greeting cards have all been sent 

The Christmas rush is through 

But I still have one wish to make 

A special one for you…” 

* 

Marianne rubbed her hand along his chest humming to the tune to the song until she felt Bog’s hand on her shoulder go still, followed by his breathing becoming soft and steady. She smiled, glancing up to see that he was indeed asleep, his mouth slightly open, his face completely relaxed. 

Marianne thought about getting up and letting him sleep, but she was comfortable, the sound of his heartbeat against her ear was nice. Besides, he needed to be kept warm. She pulled the blankets up a little further, pressing her body against his side and closed her eyes.


	6. The Christmas Ball

Twas the night before Christmas Eve, the night before the ball. Bog was nervous about the ball, nervous about looking stupid (despite the royal tailor who had come to size him up and to work on an outfit, an outfit that he had no idea what it was going to look like.) Bog also felt nervous because he wanted to ask Marianne if he could stay on, here, with her in Lidvessa. 

He was in love with her, and while he was going to write the piece he had promised--as well as later basing the heroine of his next book on Marianne--he found that returning home to his apartment now lacked all the appeal it once had. He wanted to be with her. He didn’t care about the castle or the royalty, but he did care about her. He couldn’t imagine not seeing Marianne smile or laugh. He would miss the flash in her eyes, the way she could be both so noble, and so funny. 

It had only taken two weeks, but Bog knew he was hopelessly in love with Marianne. He hoped she felt the same because the idea of going back home was tearing his heart apart. 

That morning Marianne had sent an actual physical note to Bog through Sunny who had cheerfully delivered the note to his older brother’s room. The note was an invitation for Bog to have breakfast with her, just the two of them. She had asked him to meet her in what Marianne had told Bog was called the Bird Room. 

Bog had asked Sunny if everything was all right. He had an irrational fear that she wanted to have a personal breakfast with him because she wanted to ask him to leave, but Sunny, who was all smiles all the time now, had only shrugged. 

As Bog dressed that morning, he spent far too long fussing with his clothing, wanting to look nice, but realizing as he went through his luggage that he wasn’t much into fashion as everything he owned leaned heavily on the comfortable. He had finally decided on black slacks (jeans still hurt a bit when the stiffer fabric rubbed against his healing wound) and a dark blue dress shirt. He almost put on a tie but thought that might be too formal. He looked at himself in the mirror with a frown, rubbing his fingers through his beard as he muttered. 

“Maybe it’s time to say goodbye to this…” Bog frowned at his reflection. Shaving would expose his face, all of his face. He had never really thought about the fact that he used his beard to hide himself from others until this moment as he ran his fingers through the thick hair and wondered if he should shave. 

He pressed his lips together then turned away. Nope. He wasn’t ready for that. 

* 

Marianne had been kind enough to include directions to the Bird Room on the invitation card. If she hadn’t, Bog knew he would have become hopelessly lost, and while he was moving around a great deal better, he still needed the cane. But after a full two minutes of following her directions, Bog found the Bird Room--at least he was fairly confident it was the Bird Room because the ancient, heavy wood door was carved with a multitude of beautiful birds. The door was a masterpiece of woodwork, each bird carven in loving detail. Bog smiled and reached out to run his fingers over the door, admiring the craftsmanship before he took a deep breath and pushed the door open, stepping into the room. 

Bog’s eyes were wide as he stepped into the room and slowly turned around, his mouth dropping open.. 

The Bird Room was a perfect name for the room since the walls, and even the ceiling were painted as if Bog stood in an open garden pavilion with a blue spring sky overhead with painted clouds drifting lazily across the ceiling. Bog could see in the corners that were painted to resemble the inside of a pavilion with flowering vines painted through the trellis along with painted flowers and insects. The flowers were bright spots of color, purples, and blues that looked real enough that he almost reached out to touch one to make sure it was indeed painted on. The perspective was amazing, the artist a genius Bog thought, because it looked as if he could step off the pavilion and into a garden that stretched out into the distance among dozens of flowering, colorful roses. The roses looked so realistic that Bog almost thought he could smell the cloyingly sweet scent of the flowers in the room. There were other flowers as well: tulips, daffodils, violets, and lavender that swayed in an invisible spring breeze. Among the flowers were painted butterflies all brightly colored and, if Bog wasn’t mistaken, they were not mystical butterflies, but painting of real butterfly species...maybe six different types Bog thought as he counted silently to himself. 

But the room wasn’t named the Butterfly Room. It was the Bird Room and as Bog walked eagerly around the room, he saw some of the most beautifully painted birds he had ever seen hidden in the garden among the roses or sitting proudly in the branches of painted trees. He had started to count how many birds were represented in the room but gave up at around thirty, and he was sure there were many more. 

Bog smiled. He could see Marianne in his mind’s eye, in a puffy, frilly dress as a little girl, playing in this room with her sister. 

This room, like all of the rooms in the castle, had been decorated for the holiday season as well with four large white Christmas trees in the corners of the room, but to keep with the theme of the room, Bog noted the ornaments on the trees were all birds. He stepped closer to one of the trees to inspect the ornaments, which ranged from colorful feathered ornaments with real feathers to crystal birds that picked up the lights in the trees and reflected them back in a rainbow of colors. There were gold and jeweled birds as well, one of which could probably pay for his apartment in the city back home for the next couple of years. On the top of each tree sat a different bird tree topper. The one crowning the tree Bog currently was examining was a blue and green jeweled peacock, it’s dazzling tail spread to catch the lights from the Christmas tree. Bog was quite impressed. 

Bog turned his attention from the walls to the table that stood in the middle of the room, a simple round table covered with a white table cloth. On it sat silver utensils and white and gold-trimmed plates set for two people. 

Bog’s heart rate quickened, both with worry and happiness at getting to spend time alone with Marianne (not that they didn't spend a lot of time alone in the last few days while he healed, but every chance he got to be alone with Marianne was a thrill, like Christmas every day.) 

He walked over and pulled a chair out to sit, stretching his bad leg out with a sigh and hooked his cane over the back of the chair. He wanted a cigarette, but more just to hold it in his fingers than to smoke it. He was still using the gum, but he had mostly switched to the patches, which were helping. He wondered if the old urges would ever completely go away once he had completely quit. Bog sighed and tried to focus on something else when the door opened and Marianne stepped in. 

She looked particular regal today, dressed in a dark evergreen top with a high rounded neckline and three-quarter sleeves and a pencil skirt that hung just below her knees with a smart black belt around her waist. She also had on a pair of nude heels and her hair had been styled to look sleek and elegant. Bog smiled when he saw the princess, but he felt like he was about to be part of a professional meeting and not lunch with the woman he had fallen in love with. 

Bog started to stand when she entered, but Marianne motioned him back down with a smile and a wave of her hand. She walked over and took her seat just as the door was held open and a couple of servants stepped in carrying two trays with covered dishes and a pot of hot tea. The smell of freshly baked cinnamon muffins, bacon, and scrambled eggs filled the air as the servants set the food down and removed the covers from the plates. Bog also saw fresh orange juice and some sliced melon. 

Marianne continued to smile while the servants poured the tea, then with a smile and bow to the princess, they just as quietly left the room. 

Marianne grinned at Bog. “Good morning. How are you feeling today?” 

Bog smiled at her. “Better. No more pain pills, so I feel a little less groggy and I’m getting around better.” He touched his leg. “I think dancing will be on the table for the Christmas Ball tomorrow, that is if the Crown Princess can dance with a commoner.” 

Marianne giggled as she started to fill his plate. Bog was about to say something about her not needing to do that for him; he had gotten as far as opening his mouth when Marianne shot him a look. She clearly had read his mind. Bog snapped his mouth shut with a smile. 

“So, ah...is something important going on today?” Bog asked as he added sugar to his tea. He felt a knot of anxiety in his gut as he spoke. 

“Yes, we are having a royal meeting and the press will be there.” Marianne added some fruit to both their plates. She looked up at Bog. “I would like you to be there too.” 

Bog lifted a brow. “Is everything all right?” 

Marianne smiled, but there was an edge to the smile. “Oh, yes, everything will just fine.” 

* 

They had a pleasant breakfast, after which Marianne mostly spoke about the upcoming ball, what kind of food they would be having, the music, but she refused to discuss her dress. She did ask Bog what he would be wearing, but he had no clue since the tailor had come in, measured him and muttered a lot, but left without giving Bog a clue as to what he would be making. After breakfast Brutus arrived to escort the princess and Bog to the royal audience chamber, a massive room. The walls were white with black marble accents while the floor was white marble with hints of gold veins within it. A large fireplace stood off to the left with a huge painting hung over it that depicted the royal family--a painting of Marianne, her sister, father and mother when Dagda had first taken the throne. There was a long red carpet that ran from the door and down the center of the room to a dais where three thrones of gold, wood, and red velvet sat. 

When they arrived, Bog was surprised to see how many people were in attendance. He saw Marianne’s aunt and cousin, as well as many of the nobility that Bog had seen at the cocktail party. 

He noted what he was certain were many of the general public and the press. It was quite a large crowd. 

King Dagda was sitting on his throne, dressed in full royal military uniform. His crown--a large crown of gold and diamond set with a large bluish-purple stone in the middle--sat on his head. On his left was his daughter Dawn on her own smaller throne, wearing a modest shell pink dress with a boat neckline and cap sleeves, her hair done up in a soft updo with her crown, a small simple, yet elegant diamond tiara on her head. Dawn saw Marianne and Bog and waved with her fingers at the two of them. Behind Dawn stood Sunny, who smiled at Bog when their eyes met before giving Bog a thumbs up. On King Dagda’s right sat another throne, Marianne’s throne. 

It wasn’t until this moment that Bog really appreciated, really understood that Marianne was royalty, that she was a princess due to take the throne when her father passed it on, or passed away. The significance of her position really hit him and he realized with a wave of weakness passing over him that he could never be with her. This wasn’t his world and she had responsibilities, commitments that could never include a common writer. His heart sank. 

He had never felt so defeated, so destroyed until this moment when he realized he could never have Marianne at his side through life because she could never have him. Marianne smiled at Bog. He didn’t know if she could tell what he was feeling or not, but she surprised him when she leaned over in front of everyone, (everyone in the room had turned to stare, cameras had started to flash the moment Marianne entered the room) and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth before she headed up the middle of the room. 

Bog didn’t move. His eyes were wide in shock. Several people took pictures of him as he stared after Marianne who walked up the steps to the dais, someone stepping over with a crown of diamonds and sapphires to place on Marianne’s head before she took her seat by her father. 

When she sat down--looking regal and stunning, he thought with equal parts joy and pain and some confusion--Marianne smiled at Bog and winked. 

Brutus came over and took Bog gently by the elbow, moving him to the side where the other nobles stood. “You’ll want to snap out of it so you can hear this.” 

Bog looked over at Brutus. “Ah, yes. All right.” 

* 

Once Brutus and Bog had stepped out of the way, the doors opened again and two guards complete with halberds and crisp red uniforms marched in. Behind them, his nose still bandaged, the bruises on his face now lighter purple with some yellow and green, marched Roland. Dressed in a beige suit and with his broken nose held up in the air, he had a smug look pasted on his face. 

Behind him walked two more guards. 

Roland looked around the room with the air of someone who thought everyone was beneath him. A few people murmured as they looked at Roland, but the nobleman continued to look smug and uncaring. Roland looked down on everyone, but then his eyes found Bog and Roland sneered. 

Bog grinned and gave Roland a middle finger, which made Duchess Aura--who had moved to stand next to him--laugh. Bog glanced over at her. The duchess smirked at him bumping him lightly in the side with her elbow. 

The guards in front of Roland stepped aside, leaving Roland standing in front of the King and the Princesses. 

Dagda looked down at Roland and lifted a brow imperiously. “Lord Roland Knight, it has come to our attention that you have assaulted one of our guests.” 

Roland held his head up. “You have no proof, Your Majesty, that I’ve done anything wrong.” 

Marianne stiffened, but it was Dawn who spoke up keeping her voice calm. “We have the word of your victim.” 

Roland snorted. “Bog King--a nobody? A nobody who has been trying to seduce your sister? If I hurt him, which I didn't, but if I did it would have been in defense of Princess Marianne.” 

Marianne narrowed her eyes. “Nothing you have ever done Roland has been for me. You have proven with your actions that everything you have ever done has been for yourself.” 

Roland growled. “He punched me! In front of everyone! I was the one attacked! He…” Roland turned to point an accusing finger at Bog. “...should be the one standing here, not me!” 

Dagda sniffed. “Bog King attacked you, yes, but, from what my daughter has told me, you insulted her--gravely.” The King's voice became dark, stern. “Bog King was defending the honor of my eldest daughter and your princess. I believe that his actions were justified.” 

There was a murmuring among the gathered crowd while flashes went off from the press attendees’ cameras. 

Roland sputtered. “But...but I’m nobility and he laid hands on me! You cannot simply let him walk away with no consequences! He must be punished. I demand it!” 

Marianne smirked. “I applaud Bog for his actions, especially since I was gravely insulted.” 

There was more murmuring among the crowd. Roland sneered, clearly thinking that the gathered people were on his side. 

“You should be applauding me, princess. Debasing yourself by spending time with that…” He once more pointed at Bog who was getting really tired of it and was ready to walk over and beat that asshole with his cane, except Brutus, must have felt Bog tense since he put a restricting hand on Bog’s shoulder. “...person.” Roland’s voice was dripping with contempt. “It was bad enough that you acted such a fool by leaving me at the altar, but then you run around with a common peasant!” 

Dagda’s voice was soft, but it cut through the noise of the muttering crowd like a knife. “That is quite enough out of you Roland Knight.” 

Marianne’s eyes were narrowed. “Bog King is more of a man than you have ever been Roland. Your noble title does not make you noble. Bog King is kind, generous, and has all the attributes of a true knight. He is nobler than you have ever been Roland, more than you will ever be.” 

The gathered crowd broke out into cheers. Roland looked around, clearly stunned that the gathered nobles would not take his side in this. Traitors, all of them! 

Roland turned back to the King and his daughters, his voice haughty. “It’s my word against him, a commoner and a foreigner…” Roland pointed at Bog yet again. “You can’t have me arrested, you can’t prove anything, but I demand Bog King be arrested for what he did to me!” 

Dagda’s lip curled. He was clearly not happy with Roland’s outburst. “That is true Roland, I cannot have you arrested and Mr. King, being the better man, has chosen not to press charges. You, on the other hand could pursue charges against Mr. King if you wish, but as your King I do have a certain amount of power available to me.” 

Roland went pale, all the color draining from his face. Marianne smiled with satisfaction to see Roland looking unsure of himself. 

King Dagda stood. “Roland Knight, from this day forward your are stripped of your noble title…” 

Roland yelled. “WHAT?! YOU CAN’T DO THAT!” 

Dagda continued as if he hadn’t heard the younger man. “You will no longer be permitted within the borders of my kingdom. From this moment on, you are no longer allowed within the borders of Lidvessa. If you are found within our country’s borders you will be arrested for trespassing and breach of border as a hostile entity. If anyone is found to be harboring you, they will be arrested with you for housing a criminal.” 

“But, but…” Roland gasped, his mouth opening and closing like a dying fish. 

Dagda continued as he looked down at Roland, his face a grim thundercloud. “Your mother and father have agreed to this arrangement. In exchange, they will be allowed to keep their titles and lands…” 

Roland’s voice was a loud wheezing sob. “WHAT??! My parents...they…” 

Dagda smiled. “Yes Roland, your parents chose their position and titles over their son. Perhaps you should ask yourself why? Now…” Dagda looked at everyone assembled in the room. Cameras were going off and a cameraman in the back of the room was filming. “Is there anyone who would like to say anything in Roland Knight’s defense?” 

No one said a word. 

Roland spun around, looking frantically at everyone in the room, his eyes once more finding Bog’s gaze. Bog was stunned by the outcome, though pleased. Being a social pariah stripped of lands, title, and money would be worse for Roland than anything else the King could have done. 

Bog simply smirked at Roland. 

King Dagda smiled. “Well then. Guards, please escort Mr. Knight to the border.” 

Marianne smiled. “And kick him in the ass over it.” 

Dagda couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up as he turned on his daughter. “Marianne!! Remember you are a princess.” 

Marianne smiled, not looking the least bit sorry as she said. “Sorry father.” 

Roland started to kick and scream like a child being hauled to the corner for a time out. The guards were unmoved and simply grasped him under the arms and carried him out. Dagda waited until the doors closed, blocking out Roland’s loud protests. 

“I thank you all for coming.” 

Duchess Aura began to clap. Dagda turned around looking surprised, but slowly everyone in the room began to clap until loud applause filled the room. Dagda chuckled, taking his throne again and whispered to Marianne. “I guess no one liked Roland after all.” 

Marianne glanced over at Bog with a laugh, giving Bog a saucy wink only to giggle at the blush on his cheeks. “I guess not.” 

After the applause died down, one of the reporters called out. “So, Princess Marianne. We all saw you kiss Mr. King…” 

Marianne smiled and glanced at Bog before she answered. “The answer is yes, I am involved with Mr. King.” 

Dagda lifted a brow at his daughter, though he didn’t protest, didn’t say anything except to smile. Bog thought he might pass out. 

“Are there any announcements that might be coming up?” another reporter called out, but Marianne only laughed. 

* 

Bog didn’t get to see Marianne for the rest of the day, her time being taken up with last minute plans for the festivities tomorrow. He ended up being busy himself, with the tailor appearing in his room, forcing him to try on slacks, to hold his breath, and muttering in Hindi. Bog also ended up on the phone with his agent since word that he was seeing the Princess Marianne had traveled across the water pretty quickly and his agent wanted all the details. 

Bog ended up eating dinner that night with his brother instead of with Marianne or the family. He was a little disappointed, but it was nice to have some time with his brother. 

Sunny grinned at Bog. The two of them were having dinner in Bog’s room instead of in one of the dining rooms of the castle. It was nice and cozy, giving the two brother’s time to catch up. 

“So, Roland got exiled,” Sunny said taking a sip of wine. 

Bog chuckled, spearing a piece of chicken on his plate with his fork. “That was a surprise.” 

Sunny nodded. “Apparently the King likes you, or at least likes you because of how you’ve been treating his daughter. I’ve not seen Marianne this happy in a long time--no one has,” Sunny said softly. “It’s nice to see her happy.” 

Bog blushed bright red. “She makes me happy too. You know, today I was thinking I wanted to stay here, to stay with her, but then I saw her in the audience chamber wearing that crown and I realized…” 

“That you couldn’t?” Sunny asked. 

Bog nodded. “I mean, I know she told the press we were seeing each other, but…” Bog shook his head. “She can’t marry me. I’m no one.” 

Sunny lifted his brows in surprise. “Marriage?” 

Bog blinked, realizing what he had said. “I mean...shit…” 

Sunny grinned. “So it’s serious then.” 

Bog nodded. “I’m in love with her.” 

Sunny smiled. “You know, there isn’t any law that says a princess has to marry a prince, or even a noble. Marianne is free to love and marry who she wants, just like Dawn.” 

Bog smirked at his brother. “Been looking up Lidvessa laws, hm?” He chuckled. “Things are serious I take it?” 

Sunny laughed. “Yes, very.” His tone turned serious. “Bog, don’t give up on her, all right. It’s clear she’s in love with you too. Isn’t she worth staying here for?” 

Bog nodded while he moved a piece of chicken with his fork, dancing the morsel of meat through the sauce on his plate. “Yes, she is worth everything.” 

Sunny leaned across the table and smacked his brother in the shoulder. “So stop being such a sour puss. So, you get her anything for Christmas?” 

Bog blushed. “I wrote her a poem.” 

Sunny smiled. “That’s perfect Bog.” 

Bog blushed and whispered. “I hope so.” 

* 

Marianne groaned as the hairdresser brushed her hair, spraying enough hairspray on it to hold up a bridge, trying to force the wild, short locks of brown hair into a style that Marianne’s hair clearly didn’t want to do. She hadn’t seen Bog since Roland was exiled, being busy with last-minute fittings, talking to the royal jeweler about what jewels would be taken out of the vault for her and her sister to wear tonight. Then there had been last-minute party plans and a million other little things that had kept her busy in the castle. This morning had been much the same. She wouldn’t see 

Bog until tonight. She sighed, missing him terribly. 

Her heart was beating hard as she looked at herself in the mirror. Tonight she wanted to give Bog something special for Christmas, something that truly told him how she felt about him. What she wanted to give him would change everything; she only hoped it would change everything for the better, that Bog would accept her gift. 

Bog had brought her a chance of happiness, he had shown her that she was worthy of being loved for who she was, not for her title or the history of her family. In the two short weeks they had been together, she had never been so happy, never thought she could be this happy. Marianne didn’t want to lose that, she didn’t want to lose him. 

Marianne sighed and the makeup artist who was going through her case looked up and frowned. “Princess, no frowning--you’ll give yourself lines.” 

Marianne sighed but was stopped from a retort when her doors flew open and Dawn came rushing inside in a rustle of her champagne-colored organza ball gown. The dress was sleeveless and adorned with appliqued blossoms and sparkling rhinestones along with a pair of simple white satin gloves that came up to her elbows. Dawn had her hair up with several loose curls falling around her face and a simple diamond headband in her hair, giving the illusion of a crown. She wore simple, yet elegant diamond teardrop earrings and a simple diamond-studded choker. To Marianne, her sister looked like a fairy princess, just missing a pair of wings. 

“Marianne! Have you seen the croquembouche?! It’s huge!!” Dawn laughed then stopped to stare at her sister. “You aren’t dressed yet?” Dawn blinked in surprise. “The ball starts in an hour! NO! Less than an hour!! 

Marianne made a face at her sister. “I’ll be ready, don’t worry.” 

“Where’s your dress?” Dawn spun around in a circle while Marianne chuckled. “There, behind the screen.” Marianne indicated the dressing screen in the corner painted with scenes of fairies and butterflies dancing around a flowering spring meadow. 

Dawn rushed over and pulled the dress out. 

Marianne’s dress was a princess neckline, off-the-shoulder tulle dress in dark purple with a sweeping train and littered with tiny diamonds. The bodice of the dress was lace-embroidered, decorated with leaves and flowers that dripped down to the skirt where the diamonds flowed down like stars. Marianne loved the dress. She would be wearing a small diamond and amethyst tiara with a diamond cuff bracelet and matching purple heels.. 

Dawn smiled as she held the dress up. “You are going to look every inch a princess tonight. OH hey! Your dress has pockets!” 

Marianne laughed. “Well that’s good, considering I am a princess and yes; it has pockets.” 

“Oh haha, you know what I mean,” Dawn said as she hung the dress back up. “I like the pockets. You could keep all sorts of things in those.” Dawn giggled as she came over to watch in the mirror while the makeup artist began to apply her sister’s makeup. “So, you know what Bog’s wearing?” 

Marianne chuckled which got her a dirty look from the makeup artist. “No, he didn't actually know what he would be wearing.” 

Dawn chuckled, then said with the hushed tones of someone completely in love. “Sunny is wearing this black suit with a red shirt that just fits him sooo good.” 

Marianne smirked. “Watch it, you’ll slobber on your dress.” 

Dawn giggled. “Well hurry up, we need to get downstairs to greet the guests!” 

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Marianne laughed, her makeup artist snorting at her in annoyance. 

* 

The Christmas party was being held in the gold room, which was exactly as the name implied. The room was decorated in gold and light greens with large mirrors on every other wall, a huge gilded and crystal chandelier dominating the ceiling and with white and gold marble floors. The mirrors and light made the room seem far larger than it actually was, the illusion was that of decadence and beauty reflected into eternity. The room was filled with several large white Christmas trees decorated in gold and green ornaments while Christmas ribbons and decorations were draped across the ceilings and along the few tables and chairs that were littered along the sides of the room for guests. Marianne smiled as she looked around, pleased with how everything turned out. The court decorators were some of the best in the country. 

A string quartet played off to the side, filling the room with elegant Christmas music while waiters and waitresses dressed in black and white uniforms carried silver trays filled with glasses of champagne and wine. (A few glasses contained sparkling juice or soda for those not drinking tonight) or plates of rich hors d’oeuvres such as cranberry and brie bites in puff pastry to bacon-wrapped chestnuts. The experienced servers twirled easily through the crowds, supplying the guests with food and drink. 

Marianne, her sister, and King Dagda had already made their formal entry and now the party was officially underway. The string quartet was playing a slow Christmas song while a few people were on the ballroom dance floor, moving slowly to the music, but Marianne had yet to see Bog enter the party. She had been looking for him from the moment she stepped in. She missed him terribly and was excited to spend some time with him, but so far, he was nowhere to be seen. 

Marianne glanced toward the dance floor where Dawn and Sunny were practically wrapped around each other laughing quietly, intimately and dancing slowly, their foreheads practically together as they smiled into each other's eyes. It was very sweet and terribly romantic, Marianne thought with a smile. She felt so happy to see Dawn and Sunny together. 

Marianne’s gaze wandered over the party, stopping on her father. Dagda was in deep conversation with Duke Ardyn, a kind older man with a white beard and a shiny bald head. The two men were laughing as they talked, each of them holding a glass of champagne and snagging hors d’oeuvres as the platters drifted past them. Marianne smile with humor. She wouldn’t be surprised if the night ended with the two of them, along with several other nobles, playing a friendly (and maybe a slightly drunken) game of cards. 

She sighed, turning back to the entrance to the gold room, sliding her hand into one of the concealed pockets of her gown where she felt the small box that contained her gift for Bog when a voice at her side asked. “Waiting for someone special?” 

Marianne jumped and turned to see her aunt standing beside her with two champagne glasses in her grasp. She handed one to Marianne with a smile. “Waiting for your Prince Charming?” 

Marianne gratefully took the glass and took a sip before she answered. “Thank you. I’m just waiting for Bog. I don’t understand why he isn’t here yet. You don’t think…” Marianne began to say “you don’t think he left,” but stopped herself, instead saying. “You don’t think he hurt himself or isn’t feeling well do you?” 

Aura downed her drink in one swallow, quickly replacing the glass with a fresh one with the ease of someone who had attended many parties and shrugged. “I don’t know, but I doubt it. Maybe he’s having a hard time getting ready? Or maybe he’s a bit shy...or lost. He does know where this room is right?” she asked with an amused smile. 

Marianne gasped. “Oh, maybe he doesn’t…” When movement at the entrance caught her eye, both she and Aura turned toward the entrance… 

Bog stood at the entrance to the ball looking around, biting his bottom lip nervously, one hand at the buttons of the dark blue brocade jacket that he wore, tailored to fit his broad shoulders and narrow waist, accentuating the slenderness of the writer’s frame. The shirt underneath was black with a tie that matched the color of his jacket held in place by a silver tie pin. He wore a pair of black, tailored slacks cut to emphasize his long slender legs and the points of the dark blue monk strapped shoes. But what made Marianne gasp was that Bog was clean-shaven, all signs of his beard gone. His hair was freshly cut and slicked back to reveal his entire face; the extreme blue color of his eyes--intensified by the color of his jacket--his high, sharp cheekbones, the sharp point of his nose, along with his sensual lips and strong, pointed chin. 

Marianne put her hand to her chest, staring at him. “Oh my god…” 

She heard Aura’s voice beside her. “Well...damn, he cleans up really nice. I hope you’re going to hold on tight to him because he’s definitely a Prince Charming, though let me know if you don’t want any dessert. I would certainly not be opposed to a piece of American Pie.” She indicated Bog with her champagne glass finally breaking Marianne out of her shock. 

“Aunt Aura!” Marianne gasped with a laugh only to have her aunt chuckle. 

“I’m old, not dead dear.” 

Bog’s gaze finally found Marianne and the smile that spread across his face at the sight of her made Marianne’s heart flutter in her chest. He began to take long strides across the room, his eyes only on her. 

Aura chuckled, stepping away. “You two have fun.” 

Marianne didn’t hear her aunt as Bog stepped up and bowed formally to her, though the smile never left his face. “Princess Marianne.” 

Marianne giggled. “Oh Bog, you don’t have to bow…” 

Bog looked up and Marianne felt her heart skip a beat at the way his blue eyes twinkled in the light. “Sorry I’m late.” He straightened, reaching up to rub his fingers along his chin. “I decided at the last minute to make a change. Not too hideous I hope.” He smiled, looking genuinely unsure of himself. 

Marianne swallowed staring at him, her voice soft in wonder as she continued to stare at him. “I thought you were handsome before, but....” She reached out and ran the tips of her fingers along his now smooth cheeks and down over his lips. She continued to stare at him with wonder, her voice breathless. “Now I can really see your face…” Her eyes met his blue ones, which now stood out even more brilliantly than before. At the same time, she caressed his smooth chin with the back of her finger. 

Bog’s cheeks turned red. “That’s what I was worried about, you seeing my entire face.” 

Marianne slowly laid both hands on his cheeks, her eyes wandering over his face before she said. “You look beautiful.” 

Bog blushed brighter still, then whispered. “You are the one who is beautiful Marianne like you stepped out of a storybook.” He laid a hand over one of hers, gazing into her brown eyes. “Would you honor me with a dance Princess?” 

Marianne smiled brightly, her eyes twinkling. “I will dance with you for the rest of my life Bog if you like.” 

Bog took her hand. “There is no place I would rather be than by your side Princess, for now, and always.” 

The quartet began to play White Christmas as Bog took her hand in his and led Marianne out onto the dance floor. He held her hand and turned her around to face him, putting one arm around her waist then walked her in a slow, elegant circle. Marianne fell into step with him easily as if she had always been dancing beside him. Bog smiled, seeing him without beard made her heart flutter as Bog lifted her arm, spinning her around in a slow circle. 

Marianne giggled and blush. “Where did you learn to dance?” 

Bog grinned, which Marianne loved because she could really see the entirety of his smile. “Watching hours of Youtube videos last night,” he admitted. 

Marianne burst into laughter. “You did not!” 

Bog eased her around him then back into his arms. “I did.” 

He grinned holding her close as Marianne giggled. Bog spun her around the dance floor again, her dress flaring out around her enchantingly, both of them smiling into each other’s eyes. 

Neither of them noticed that the crowd had left the dance floor to the two of them, watching the happy couple dance slowly, both of them too enchanted with each other to notice anyone else, while everyone else was enchanted by them. 

Bog spun Marianne around slowly so that her back was to him as he held her hands, moving slowly back and forth then spun her out again, holding gently to her hand then back to facing him. 

Marianne stepped in close, gazing up at him before she laid her head on his shoulder. Bog smiled, tenderly laying his cheek against her hair, closing his eyes. The two of them swayed gently together, everyone else forgotten. 

Bog held her close against him, could smell her hair, her perfume. He wanted to spend his life right here, with Marianne in his arms. 

Bog whispered passionately. “I love you.” 

Marianne bit her bottom lip, tightening her hold on him a fraction, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her. “I love you too Bog.” 

The music slowly came to an end, but the two of them continued to sway together. Her heart was pounding loud enough that the sound filled her ears. She was ready. It was now or never, Marianne thought to herself. 

Bog felt her tense in his arms. He frowned, wondering if he had done something wrong when Marianne whispered. “Bog, may I ask you something very important, something life altering?” 

Bog went still, but he continued to hold her, his heart beating hard and loud, worry and fear washing over him. Did he do something wrong, he wondered again, but he was proud of how steady his voice was when he replied. “Of course you can.” 

Marianne stepped out of the circle of his arms and swallowed nervously. “I wasn’t sure how to do this…” 

She looked up at Bog, her cheeks red, but brown eyes were determined. “There aren’t a lot of videos on Youtube about doing this, but…” Marianne pulled a small red velvet box from the pocket of her gown. Bog’s eyes widened in shock; she had gotten him a gift. But Marianne deftly dropped down to one knee in front of him, the skirt of her dress spreading out around her as she held the box out toward him. 

“Bog King, you came into my life to help make it better, and you did, in more ways than I ever thought possible. You showed me that I can be loved for who I am and not my title. You were my friend, my protector, and I cannot think of anyone else I would rather spend my life with than you. I know we haven’t known each other long, but when you find someone special and you know they are the right one, I don’t see any point in waiting to start the rest of our lives together. So...will you please marry me? Will you be my husband?” 

Marianne held her breath, looking up at Bog and doing her best not to let the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes fall. 

Everyone in the room had fallen silent and even the music had stopped as everyone held their breath. 

Dawn gasped, putting a hand to her mouth. Sunny held her against him, his arm around her waist grinning from ear to ear. He hadn’t seen this coming, but it was a welcome surprise. 

King Dagda blinked in surprise, but he was smiling, and proud of his daughter for going after something she wanted. 

Aura looked ready to start cheering, holding two champagne glasses in her hands and up to her cheeks, the glasses whining in protest under her grip. 

Marianne opened the box to reveal a black ring with golden leaves etched across it. It was the most beautiful ring Bog had ever seen. 

Bog had gone pale. He stared at the ring then back to Marianne, then awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Are...are you serious?” 

Marianne nodded her voice soft. “Yes Bog, I’m serious. I want you to be my husband. I want to be your wife, if you’ll have me.” 

“But…” Bog spoke softly. “You can’t marry me, I’m...nobody. I’m not royalty or nobility Marianne. You deserve better.” 

Marianne frowned at him. “Bog, you are noble, you don’t need a title to see that. There is no one better for me than you. I want you, I love you...please say you’ll marry me.” 

Bog put his hand to his mouth, staring at the ring, then her before he whispered, his eyes glistening with his own tears. “Yes.” 

Marianne blinked. Tears had started to fall from the corners of her eyes despite her best efforts not to let them. “What?” she asked hopefully. 

Bog removed his hand from his mouth. He was shaking a little, but he said louder. “Yes Marianne, yes. I’ll be your husband.” 

Marianne’s smile was blinding in its brilliance. She pulled the ring out of the box, taking Bog’s hand and slid the ring onto his finger. Bog took her hands and lifted her to her feet and into his arms, his mouth finding hers. Marianne melted against him, kissing him back softly, tenderly as the crowd erupted into applause. 

Dagda stepped onto the dance floor, walking over to his daughter and her fiance. He waited while they finished kissing, grinning awkwardly at the crowd, lifting his brows in amusement. 

Bog finally released her lips and Marianne looked to her father. She lifted a brow, a soft edge of concern in her voice. “Daddy…” 

Dagda grinned. “Well, I had a gift to give Bog tonight as well, though I suppose now would be a perfect opportunity to do so.” He put his hand on Bog’s shoulder. 

Bog still looked a bit shell-shocked from Marianne’s proposal, murmured. “Sir?” 

“Bog, you did my kingdom a service, you came here to write about my daughter and the family to try and counter the negative nonsense that Roland Knight had started. You did one better, you exposed Roland for the...dare I say, jerk…” This caused laughter to ripple through the gathered guests. “...that he really was. I would consider it an honor if you would allow me to grant you a knighthood.” 

Bog looked shocked and speechless. 

Marianne gasped. “Daddy?” 

Dagda smiled. “Don’t think I’m blind just because I’m old my dear. I’ve seen the two of you together and I’ve seen how happy Bog King has made you. If you want to marry him, I have no reason to protest and giving Mr. King a knighthood will just make your marriage that much...easier.” Dagda smiled, pleased with himself. 

Bog stumbled over his words. “Your Majesty, you don’t…” 

Dagda fixed Bog with a stern stare. “I don’t think you get to tell me what I can or can’t do, Mr. King.” 

Bog snapped his mouth shut, then smiled shyly. “Of course, Your Majesty.” 

Dagda smirked. “Better. All right now...we have some celebrating to do! My eldest daughter just got engaged!!” 

There was applause littered with cheering. 

Marianne took Bog’s hand smiling up at him. 

Bog grinned back at her. “I love you Princess Marianne.” 

Marianne giggled. “I love you, Lord King.” 

Bog laughed. “God, wait till I tell my mom about all this.” 

Marianne laughed as well. “I’m looking forward to meeting her.” 

* 

The rest of the night was spent in laughter and love. Bog and Marianne danced some more, Dawn and Sunny exclaimed over Bog’s ring, while Dawn complained that she was going to have to top Marianne’s proposal with Sunny blushing beside her. 

But soon, as the hour grew late, Marianne took Bog’s hand. “Come with me.” 

Bog laughed letting her lead him away from the remnants of the party. “I don’t know if I can take any more surprises tonight, Your Highness.” 

Marianne giggled. “Well, I don’t think you’ll have to worry--this one will be for both of us.” 

Bog lifted a brow as Marianne dragged him through the castle until they end up at an ornate white and gold door. She opened the door for him, motioning him inside. 

Bog leaned in peeking inside. 

“What’s in here?” he asked glancing back at her. The room was dark so he couldn't see much. 

Marianne blushed. “It’s the dungeon.” 

Bog frowned. “Dungeon? What?” He looked into the room again, but Marianne laughed. “No silly, it’s my bedroom.” 

Bog blinked in surprise, his cheeks turning red. “Oh…” 

Marianne gave him a light shove in the back to force him inside. “Oh yes, it's after midnight so it is now officially Christmas, I thought I might give you my last gift…” 

Bog chuckled as Marianne closed the door behind her. 

“Oh…” Bog nodded his head and chuckled again. “I like Christmas. Did you know that…” 

Marianne’s voice was low and seductive. “Me too...now let me open my present…” 

“Yes, Your Highness…” Bog whispered back. 

* 

Later that evening a guard named Walter wandered through the corridors near the royal bedchambers on his rounds. There were still a few party guests in the castle, though most who were still in the castle were relatives and they were all downstairs with their king, playing a card game. From the laughter drifting up to the upper floors, it sounded as if they were all having a rather good time. Walter smiled. He loved working here, the people were pleasant and the royal family were wonderful people to work for. He had heard about the excitement tonight, that Princess Marianne had asked that man Bog King--the writer who had come here to help the family--to marry her. It was all terribly romantic. 

He loved it. 

There was no place else he would rather work. 

He was just completing his rounds on the royal family’s private floor having walked past the Princess Marianne’s room when he heard strange noises coming from the eldest princess’s bedroom. 

Walter stopped short, cocking his head to the side trying to figure out what he had heard. All was quiet now. Just as he was beginning to think he was hearing things, Walter heard the sound again. It was the very clear sound of a man’s groan. 

Walter turned to look at her door. He heard the sound again, it was definitely a very erotic sounding groan of a man followed by another moan, this time of a woman. Walter’s cheeks turned bright red. 

He hurried down the hall smiling, his ears red. 

* 

Bog groaned with exhaustion, lying on his back, his arms out. He was naked except for the sheet that just barely covered his hips. Marianne shifted closer and laid her head against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her naked body against his side. Bog wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. 

Bog smiled, looking deliriously happy. “You know, in all the excitement, I forgot to give you your Christmas gift.” 

Marianne giggled running her fingertips over his chest. “Oh I think you just did and in an hour or two, I’m hoping you’ll give it to me again.” 

Bog blushed and squeezed her to him. “You’re funny” 

Marianne laughed softly kissing his chest. “Yes I am.” 

“And it doesn’t take a whole hour to ah, be ready again.” He grinned and Marianne squeezed him tighter as she let out a pleased sigh. 

Bog chuckled smiling. “I wrote you a poem.” 

Marianne pushed up, to look at him. “You did?” 

Bog didn’t lift his head from the pillow, but he nodded. “I did. Want to hear it?” 

Marianne nodded. 

Bog smiled blushing a little. “All right…I’m more of a prose writer than a poet, but you inspired me...” 

He pulled her close and whispered in her ear. 

* 

“Looking within russet hues of your eyes 

To see the depths of love manifested 

Between us, through us, I forever know 

Upon this earth, and in the heaven’s skies. 

To know you is to love you, Princess fair, 

Holder of my heart and soul, truly so 

Eternal as empyrean’s bright flames 

Two hearts entwined, love’s trove, a perfect pair…”


End file.
